


The Dying Past

by falloutmoose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-04-07 12:04:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 30,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4262619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falloutmoose/pseuds/falloutmoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael Cohen is a respected physician at Lyons Memorial Hospital, but he has a dark past and an even darker secret. New intern Samantha will attempt pull him from the wreckage that is his life, despite everything Michael throws at her in a shallow effort to stop her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Demons

Night shifts at Lyons Memorial Hospital were either dull and slow or a rush of emergency patients, there was no in between. On-call doctors and their intern groups flitted around the hospital, checking on patients, giving medicine to those who need it and attending to emergency admissions. Tonight was no exception. 

After a car crash on one of the major highways, three emergency patients were admitted into Lyons. Michael Cohen, the on-call Attending, gathered his small group of interns from the on-call room, and rushed to the Intensive Care Unit where one of the patients were taken. A young child laid crying and calling for his mum on the gurney, a full length splint immobilised his left leg and a neck brace keeping his head from moving to avoid any more damage. Michael moved to the side of the gurney and looked the boy over. 

“What do we have?” He asked the paramedics.   
“Male, seven years old. He was involved on a car crash up on Montgomery. Suspected spine injury, compound fracture of the ankle.”  
“Alright.” Michael nodded, looking at his three interns. “Grab the edges of the sheet. On three we’ll move him onto the bed. Ready?” His interns nodded. “One, two, three.” They lifted the boy onto the bed, letting the paramedics take the gurney away, leaving the doctors to attend to him. 

After taking all his vitals, Michael administered morphine into an Intravenous drip that he attached to the young boys arm, hoping to take away most, if not all, his discomfort and pain. 

“You’re going to be okay, darling.” Samantha, one of Michael's newest “students” spoke softly to the boy, stroking her thumb over the back of his little hand as he gripped tightly in a mixture of fear and pain, to hers.   
“I want my mommy.” He cried, his hand squeezing Samantha’s more.   
“I know, sweetheart. But we’ve got to make you feel better first.” She looked up at Michael and sighed.  
“Can you tell me your name?” Michael spoke, equally as soft as Samantha previously had.  
“Tomas.” the boy managed to speak in between gurgles of pain. 

Together, Samantha, Michael and the other two interns wheeled him down the corridors and into theatre, where surgery was already set up to fix Tomas’s compound fracture. After prepping him for much needed surgery on his leg, Michael looked up, his eyes darting from intern to intern, making calculations in his head.

“Samantha, scrub up, you’re in on this surgery. Ellie and Justin, go check up on his mother. See where she’s at, what condition she’s in.” Ellie and Justin nodded and walked away, Samantha immediately prepped herself to be a part of the surgery, butterflies of nerves and apprehension exploding in her stomach as this would be her first surgery since joining the staff of Lyons Memorial hospital three weeks ago. 

Michael placed the mask over Tomas’ face and stroked his hair to keep him calm. “Alright, Tomas. You’re going to be okay. The pain will go soon. Are you feeling sleepy?” Tomas nodded in response to Michael’s question. “That’s good. Don’t fight sleep. You need rest. Your mom will be here when you wake up, I promise.”  
“Can you count to ten for me, sweetheart?” Samantha took over conversation, knowing the anaesthetic was taking affect, putting Tomas into a state of unconsciousness. Tomas weakly counted to ten, only managing to count to four before he slipped under. 

Surgery took two hours to complete, three metal pins had to be placed into Tomas’ leg in order to realign his bones. X-rays were taken while he was still under sedation to check for other injuries and luckily he hadn’t suffered any other substantial damaged, just a few bruises and abrasions. 

After settling Tomas down in the ICU with Samantha, so he can wake up in some comfort, Michael paged Justin so he could receive word on his mother. When Justin caught up with him, his face said everything Michael didn’t want to hear. 

“She died, didn’t she?”  
“Yeah. She was pronounced dead on arrival.” Justin shook his head as he spoke.   
Michael gritted his teeth and nodded in acknowledgment. Without a word he walked away from Justin and too his office, where he slumped down in his leather office chair. After a few long moments of staring into complete nothingness, Michael banged his fists violently on the desk, the colourful pot that held a selection of pens rattled and paperwork scrunched under his hands. Pushing away from the desk, Michael stood and walked over to the door, locking it with a flick of his wrist and shutting the blinds quickly. His mind was already swimming, he needed his fix. 

Michael returned to his desk, only stopping by it to retrieve a small bag from the safety of the locked bottom drawer. His shaky fingers unzipped it and he reached inside, sighing in relief when he pulled out a small bottle. He dry swallowed three pills from the tablet container, allowing his body to relax against the wall and slide down it until his rear end met the floor. The bottle rolled out of his hand, the label reading “Alprasomlam” facing upwards, taunting Michael until the drugs took affect. After a few moments, his demons that had gotten hold of him again, their strangling fingers digging into his very core, snatching whatever sanity he had left, which was very little, were fought off by the haze, his body warming all over.  
Every bad thought, every memory that Michael hated, everything that he blamed himself for were ebbed away, leaving nothing but blurriness, the familiar euphoric feeling creeping into his mind, but the feeling was being ripped away quicker than it had arrived. The rapping at his office door wasn’t what Michael needed, or wanted, at this precise moment in time. He willed whoever was behind the knocking to go away and leave him in his state of bliss, but the rapping continued. Michael heaved himself to his feet, sluggishly kicking the bottle under the desk and out of sight. After steadying himself with the help of the wall, he made his way over to the door, unlocking it and opening it slightly. 

Samantha tilted her head as she stared into the eyes of a very off colour looking Michael. 

“Are you okay?” She questioned.   
“Yeah. I’m just tired. The cons of being on-call, I’m afraid.” Michael managed to sound himself, professional and together, despite his mind floating on the edge, between sanity and darkness. The latter being his personal choice, right now.   
“I know the feeling already.” Samantha nodded, her lips curling into a warm smile. “Justin told me about Tomas’ mother. What’s the protocol when it comes to situations like this? Do I tell him when he wakes up? He’s going to want his mom..”

Michael’s faced pained at Samantha’s words and he took a step back, allowing Samantha to enter his office as he walked back to his deck, sitting in the chair behind it. Samantha sat on the leather arm chair to the left of the desk, watching Michael carefully. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, Michael?”  
“I’m fine. Please, stop questioning it. It’s just been a long night.” Michael cleared his throat, the cloudiness affects from the Alprasomlam still coursing through his body. “He trusts you, so I think it’s only fair to him that you tell him, but it’s not going to be easy. It’s going to be one of the worst things you’ve had to do. Possibly the worst.”  
“No..the worst thing I’ve had to do was tell a mother that she was having a stillborn son.” Samantha followed her sentence, the lie, with a forced smile, meeting Michael’s confused look with hers. “Oh..I used to be a midwife before moving to medicine.” She shrugged. “It’s not how it’s dictated in movies, that’s for sure.”   
“My apologies.” Michael nodded. “It seems I’ve pre-judged you. I had you down as someone who didn’t know their way around a hospital.”   
“It’s fine. You weren’t the only one. Ellie did the same too, frankly she’s kinda up her own ass so I expected it.”  
“I thought that about her too.” Michael found himself chuckling slightly through the drug fueled haze, which, much to his annoyance, was dissipating. “Anyway, where were we?”  
“Tomas.”   
“Right. Yes, tell him as soon as he coherent enough to understand. He may just drift in and out of consciousness for the next few hours.”  
“Okay.” Samantha nodded. “I checked on all the other patients under our care too, they’re all stable.”  
“Very good.” Michael nodded, his voice was slightly slurred and he hoped Samantha would just link that to him claiming to be tired.  
“I’ll page you if I need you, in the meantime you should get some rest. Maybe take a nap in the on-call room.”   
“I’ll nap on my couch.” He nodded to the dark red couch in the corner of his office, that Samantha had failed to notice upon entering the room.   
“Okay.” Samantha stood and grabbed the paperwork she’d placed on the desk when she sat down. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” She smiled and walked out of the room, closing the door gently behind her, leaving Michael to sigh deeply in relief. 

Michael leaned down and rooted around under the desk until he could feel the pill bottle in his hand. Another tablet was taken, another euphoric state washed over him as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes closing, blocking out the hospital life and creating a fairy-tale land in his mind, the one he preferred, the one being the reason he abused drugs so often. Within minutes, he drifted off to sleep, or, more appropriately, unconsciousness, nightmares soon to be his enemy.


	2. Glass Hearts

Samantha’s heart broke as she held the young, crying boy in her arms, rocking him ever so slightly back and forth. With one hand, she rubbed the boys back soothingly, hoping to calm him and comfort him in any way possible, the other hand held Tomas’ hand, his little fingers wrapped tightly around hers. 

“I’m sorry Tomas..” Samantha whispered. “I’m sorry.” Every apology stung her. She’d never been good with bad news. Her emotional side always got the better of her, especially when it came to children losing their parents. She lost her mother at a young age, and she never really knew her father, so on some level, Samantha understood their pain. 

Michael watched from the nurses desk, his eyes narrowed and his lips pressed together in a thin line, nobody liked it when patients received heartbreaking news and it sent a veil of sadness across the entire hospital, but Michael knew the way Samantha was being with Tomas was unprofessional. Sure, doctors were allowed to comfort the patients in their tine of grief, but Tomas would become attached to Samantha, and realistically he couldn’t allow that to happen as she had a job to do and other patients to care for. Michael pushed himself away from the desk and crossed the white, pristine clean floor in six long paces, reaching the foot of the bed where he cleared his throat. 

“Doctor Riggs, may I have a word with you in my office?” 

Samantha looked up at Michael questionably and nodded. 

“Tomas, let go of me please. Come on, you’re okay. You’ll be okay. Nurse Sykes will take good care of you.” Samantha freed herself from the young boys grip and stood up straight.  
“No.” Tomas sniffed, wiping his snotty nose on the back of his hand. “I don’t want her. Stay.”  
“I have other people to care for, Tomas. Sick people that need my help. Nurse Sykes is lovely, she’s going to take you to the children’s ward where there are books and games you can play until you’re feeling better. I’ll come visit you.”  
“Promise?” Tomas looked up at Samantha, his big brown eyes glistening with tears, but pleading in a way that broke Samantha’s heart more.   
“I promise.” She ruffled his hair and turned to the nurse. “Look after him.” She smiled and started for Michael’s office.

Samantha knocked on the door twice, her belly flip flopping like it did whenever she had to see the principle at high school, which happened a lot. Michael voice signalled it was okay for her to enter the room so she did, closing the door behind her. 

“You wanted to see me, Doctor Cohen?” Samantha kept her voice professional, not knowing if she was there for praise or disapproval.   
“Please, take a seat, Samantha.” Michael looked up from his paperwork, continuing to write the follow up report for the police on a domestic abuse patient under his care. He sighed and set his pen down after signing the paper.   
“It’s Sammy.” She corrected him as she sat in the leather chair. “Samantha is too formal.” She flashed him a smile which faded as soon as she saw Michael stare her down.   
“I’ll stick to Samantha, if you don’t mind.” Michael commented, crossing his hands together on the desk. “Am I correct to assume you’ve told Tomas about his mother?”  
“Yes.” Samantha sighed. “He didn’t take it well, as I expected.”  
“I saw.” Michael leaned back in his chair, staring Samantha down a little. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, maybe it was the half bottle of Jack Daniels he had for breakfast, or maybe it was the Vicodin he swallowed with his liquid lunch of yet another half bottle of Jack Daniels, but something made Michael want to scream and shout at the intern. “Tell me, Samantha, do you think its entirely professional to be hugging patients, cradling them in your arms like they’re your own child?”  
“I..” the last comment stung Samantha’s heart, like she’d just been shot through the vital organ and left to bleed out. She took a deep breath and sucked on her bottom lip, like she always did when she was controlling certain emotions, before meeting Michael’s gaze. “Probably not. No. But he’s seven.”  
“Seven or seventy, as a doctor it’s not your duty to comfort patients physically. That’s what their family are for.” Michael’s speech and stare turned cold, making Samantha physically shiver.  
“His mom died!” Samantha raised her voice. “You cared before. When that cancer patient died.”  
“This is different.” Michael felt irritated that she bought up the death of a patient he cared for through three long months. “Sarah was here a long time, everyone got to know her.”  
“No. No. This is not different, Michael. But fine. You’re the boss. I apologise for my unprofessional action. It wont happen again.” Samantha forced a smile. “Was there anything else?”  
“That is all.” 

Without a word, Samantha stood and walked out of the room. Ignoring all the quizzing looks from Ellie and Justin, she passed them in the corridor, making her excuses that she needed to grab items from the supply closet. 

Samantha did, indeed, end up in the supply closet, but not colleting supplies. Instead, she was sat on an upturned storage box, her knees pulled up to her chest and sobbing. She hated herself in these moments of weakness, when the guard she put up had been breached and her emotions were bare for people to mess with. Of course, there were reasons for her state at this very moment in time, reasons that no one at this hospital knew, and she would fight tooth and nail to make sure they never did. Crying in a supply closet never happened at her old hospital, Kansas City General, another reason why she hated herself for letting it happen at Lyons Memorial Hospital. 

Half an hour passed, Samantha still hadn’t emerged from the closet, and she wish she had when Justin and Ellie pushed their way in, laughing and giggling as they kissed in a way that would have anyone believe they were trying to eat each other whole, head first. Samantha furiously wiped her eyes and stood, facing the shelves and grabbing packets of gauzes and bandages. Ellie stopped attacking Justin in stomach churning kisses long enough to acknowledge she was even in there. 

“Get lost, Riggs.” Ellie laughed.   
“Be nice.” Justin scolded. “Are you okay, Samantha?”  
“I’m fine.” Samantha nodded, brushing them off. “I’ll leave you to whatever the hell you think you’re doing. Just a little tip: the door is pretty thin and there are patients sleeping so keep the wails of the desperate slut sucking your face off to a reasonably quiet decibel.” She quipped and left the closet. 

Samantha’s plan was to quietly finish her shift, of which she only had two hours left of, leave the hospital for the next two days then come back with a new game face on, her emotional wounds stitched and forgotten about, so she got to work. Her first patient on the list was an easy one, all she had to do was replace an IV, a procedure she’d done thousands of times before, but her hands simply would not stop shaking, not allowing her to make any headway. Samantha sighed and apologised to the patient, who screwed their face up and demanded she page her superior to do the job at hand. With a grumble, Samantha did as requested, paging Michael. After ten minutes, Michael arrived on the ward, frowning in Samantha’s direction. 

“What seems to be the problem?” Michael asked, smiling at the patient.   
“This under-qualified child keeps messing up the simple task of changing my IV.” The patient snarled.

Samantha was about to reply, kick off in pure frustration about the comment made by the rude woman laying in the hospital bed but Michael spoke before she could. 

“That comment is rude and I do not appreciate you calling a member of my staff a child. Please, just keep your comments to yourself. I will change you IV myself in a few minutes after you have calmed down.” Michael turned and walked down the corridor, gesturing for Samantha to follow him, and she did, reluctantly but, as he was her boss, she had no choice, really. 

“If you’re going to have another go at me, please save it.” Samantha ran a hand through her hair and groaned. “I never thought it would be this difficult here. Man, I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t really bonded with anyone here. I mean..I thought Justin and I were friends but he’s too busy possibly impregnating the bitch named Ellie.” She shook her head and looked up at Michael, who’s eyebrow was raised at her little outburst. “Sorry..sorry.” She sighed.   
“I think you should clock out early.” Michael finally said, nodding slowly. “It’s been a stressful shift for all of us. Well, for you and I anyway. I shall be having words with Justin and Ellie.”   
“I really am sorry.”   
“Don’t apologise. Just take what I said earlier into consideration. I don’t want you to become too attached to patients. They come and go. A few stick in your heart but you’ve gotta learn to ignore the sadness.”  
“That’s easier said than done.” Samantha sighed.   
“I know, but you’ll get there. And don’t worry about Mrs Freeman.” Michael nodded to the patient who Samantha was trying to treat. “She’s in and out of here more than anyone. She’s rude to everyone. Including me and Nurse Harvelle.”  
“Okay..”  
“Go home, get some rest. I’ll see you Monday evening.” Michael patted Samantha’s shoulder and walked away, back to the IV patient, leaving Samantha to take a few deep breaths before going to her locker in the staff room, collecting her bag and leaving the hospital. 

On her twenty minute drive home, Samantha stopped and bought breakfast, as it was now nine a.m. and dropped her scrubs off at the dry cleaners. When she walked through the door to her house she picked up her mail and put it on the coffee table, to be read at a later time before slumping onto the sofa and scoffing down her food quicker than starving animals at feeding time at the zoo. She never really ate anything on night shifts, mainly because there wasn’t much time, and the last sixteen hours had been no exception.   
Samantha kicked off her Chuck Taylors and propped her feet up on the couch, resting into the comfort of the cushions as she flicked on the TV. Reruns of some early morning talk show played quietly in the room, the sound comforting and relaxing Samantha enough to let her drift off, the next nine or so hours being filled with the rest she so desperately needed.


	3. The Death of Love

Michael pushed open the door of his home located on the outskirts of town, a large, three bedroom farmhouse, much too big for one person, and threw his satchel down by the door, where it would go forgotten about until he returned to work in twelve hours. The first room he entered was the kitchen, where he grabbed a six pack from the fridge and a packet of beef jerky. He carried the items into the master bedroom, his bedroom, and, after pushing the empty beer cans onto the floor, placed them on the bedside table. After having a quick shower, Michael sat on the end of his bed and scanned through the mountains of DVD’s on the shelving units by the television. His eyes darted erratically side to side as he looked over each one, becoming increasingly saddened by the thirty or forty ‘chick flick’ movies in the collection. They belonged to his girlfriend, his late girlfriend. 

A mighty crash echoed throughout the room, sounds of snapping plastic as DVD cases hit the wall, spilling its contents over the floor only fuelled Michael’s, now, angered state. The next thing to be thrown across the room was the small, flat screen television set. A growl erupted from Michael’s throat as he swiped his arms wildly at the electronic item, sending it crashing onto the floor. Picture frames, glassware and trinkets also fell victim to the physicians rage. The beer and beef jerky were now forgotten about as Michael now found himself in the bathroom, staring at his refection in the mirrored door of the bathroom cabinet above the sink. His breathing was deep, laboured and shaky, something he was used to seeing as these violent outbursts were more than a common occurrence. After a few long moments, he pulled the cabinet door open and rummaged through the shelves inside, knocking soap, toothpaste and deodorant into the sink below as he searched for the only thing that could calm him. 

Once Michael’s fingers wrapped around the bottle labelled ‘Oxycodone’, it became a race to open it. Despite his trembling fingers, he managed to open the bottle swiftly and shake four pills out onto the palm of his hand. Without the aid of water, Michael swallowed the drugs and gripped the edge of the sink, his head bowed low. Within ten minutes, the room began to spin and his vision blurred, a sickening smile creeping onto his face. This was the world he lived in now, the world he preferred. Not the sad one, with the dead girlfriend, credit card debts and a mortgage, but the one with the abuse of prescription medication, heavy drinking and colleagues who hated him at a job he had become to dislike and found a chore.  
Michael practically floated to back into his bedroom, his bare feet becoming cut as he stood on the shards of glass and plastic that littered the floor, leaving behind bloody footprints leading towards his bed where he now laid, the same, insane smile on his face, his eyes, pupils blown wide and bloodshot, staring emotionless at the ceiling above him. Drug induced peacefulness now washing over him. 

 

x-x-x-x-x

-  
_“Push, sweetheart, come on, you can do it!”_  
_“I cant, I’m too tired.” Samantha cried, resting her sweat drenched head against the hospital pillows._  
_“You’ve got too. Come on, baby. You can do it.” Samantha’s husband reassured her, clutching Samantha’s hand._

_Samantha looked up into her friends eyes and nodded, her face turning red and more sweat beading as she gave one big, final push that her baby needed to be born. Instead of cries, though, a sad silence fell in the room. The midwife placed the lifeless body of Samantha’s son onto her chest and smiled sadly._

_“I’ll give you some time.” the midwife spoke, before leaving the room._

_Samantha looked down at her son, her eyes leaking with tears as her fingers slowly stroked what little hair the newborn had. She knew thirty-six weeks into her pregnancy that her baby would be still born, and despite having a month before the due date, no amount of preparation in the world made the birth any easier on her._

_“He’s beautiful” She whispered through her sobs._  
_“You knew he would be.” Dean, her husband of two years and the father of the baby boy, smiled through his tears of heartbreak and sadness as he kissed Samantha’s forehead._  
_“I’m sorry.” Samantha cuddled her baby close. “I’m so sorry Austin.”_  
-

Samantha shot awake, sitting bolt upright in her bed. It wasn’t often that she’d get bad dreams, but when she did, they were always about the day that should’ve been one of the happiest of her life but was, instead, the most heartbreaking. She pressed the light button on her alarm clock to show the time. The green digital numbers flashed up four-forty p.m, making her sigh as she swung her legs around until she sat on the edge of the bed. 

“Might as well just get up.” She sighed, standing up and moving across the room to open the drapes. As the late afternoon sun flooded into the room, Samantha rubbed her eyes and stretched. Sleeping through the day wasn’t ideal for her, but she had little choice, another night shift was scheduled as it was now Monday, and after the little altercation between her and Michael, she wasn’t looking forward to it. 

Samantha showered, taking her time as she now had an extra twenty minutes, and after a light breakfast, she changed into her scrubs and headed out the door. The drive was a nightmare, rush hour traffic blocked most of the roads, making the trip dull and boring, the only thing keeping her occupied was her own mind and memories. 

-  
_“I can’t do this anymore, Dean.” The sentence left Samantha’s mouth tiredly. “Since Austin, our marriage is a wreck. All we do is argue.”_  
_“That’s not true!” Dean cupped Samantha’s face. “Sammy, I love you. What happened to Austin wasn’t our fault.”_  
_“So why do you keep blaming yourself for it?” Samantha pulled away from Dean’s touch and turned her back on him. “Why do I keep blaming myself for it?”_  
_“Because in some way we’re trying to justify it?” Dean looked at the floor. “You drink to block it out.”_  
_“I drink because if I don’t, I over think and I can’t come to you to talk about it because you don’t want to talk about it. You shut yourself off from it. If you had it your way, you’d act as if we never had a son. If you had it your way, you and me would be living in some fantasy world.” ___  
_“Don’t you dare!” Dean interjected. “I’ve never forgotten about Austin for one second. It breaks my heart that we didn’t get to bring him home. I can’t believe you’d say that.” ___  
_“That’s how you make me feel!” Samantha shook her head. “This just..this married isn’t going to work. I..” Samantha took a deep breath to calm down. “I want a divorce.”_  
-

Samantha walked into the hospital and made her way up to the fifth floor, checking in with the main patient under her care before heading to Michael’s office, ready to attend rounds. She knocked on the door, frowning a few minutes later when she received no answer, so she made her way to the nurses desk, where Nurse Mills greeted her with a smile. 

“Good evening, Doctor Riggs.”  
“Evening, nurse. Do you know where Doctor Cohen is?”  
“No.” the nurse shook her head. “Isn’t he in his office?”  
“Nope.”  
“Maybe he’s running late. I’ll give him a call.” the nurse picked up the phone and dialled his number, Samantha stood by the desk, tapping her fingers softly on the wood as she waited. “Hmm. That’s odd.”  
“What?” Samantha watched as the nurse hung up the phone.  
“His cell is switched off. Have you tried his pager?”  
“Not yet.” Samantha laughed. “I keep forgetting I’ve got the damn thing.” She retrieved her pager from her pocket and sent Michael a quick page, asking of his whereabouts. “Well, while I’m waiting, I’ll pop down and see Tomas.” Samantha smiled and was about to walk away when Nurse Mills caught her hand to stop her from leaving.  
“Didn’t anyone tell you?” She queried.  
“Tell me what?” Samantha frowned.  
“Tomas passed away. He had blood clot that the x-ray didn’t catch.”  
“W-what?” Samantha shook her head. “No. No one told me.”  
“I’m sorry, Samantha.” The nurse smiled sadly before walking away. Samantha swallowed the lump in her throat and headed for the staff room. 

As tears cascaded down her cheeks, Samantha lashed out her fist at one of the lockers, the metal door buckling beneath her hand and squeaking in protest. Justin, who had just clocked in for the night shift and was enjoying a quick coffee almost jumped out of his skin at the unexpected noise. 

“Samantha, what the hell? That’s my locker!”  
“Why did no one tell me?!” Samantha yelled at the intern.  
“Excuse me?”  
“Tomas died and no one told me! Why did you not page me? You were the intern here this weekend.”  
“Michael told me not too. I’m sorry, Samantha. I wanted too but he said not to disturb your weekend off.”  
“Michael told you not too?” Samantha frowned, shaking her head. “he’s such an asshole!”  
“Hey..I’m sorry, okay? C’mon, don’t cry.” Justin rubbed Samantha’s shoulder comfortingly but she shrugged him off.  
“Don’t touch me..just..leave me alone for a bit okay.” Samantha grabbed her jacket from her locker.  
“Where are you going?”  
“I need some air.”

Samantha practically ran out of the hospital, her eyes were stinging with tears and her chest hurt. Since Austin, death wasn’t something she dealt with well. Not that anyone dealt with death well, but with Samantha, it shut her down. She slumped onto a bench and stared down at the floor, taking deep breaths to calm herself as much as she could. She wasn’t sure if she sad that Tomas had died, or pissed off that no one had told her, but either way, she was upset.  
After an hour, Samantha’s pager had only bleeped once, the page being from Michael, saying that he wouldn’t be in for the shift, but with no explanation why, this only annoying her more. 

When Samantha had finally calmed down, she went back into the hospital, continuing the night shift under the supervision of another Attending physician, ignoring the anger at her boss that settled in the back of her head. The next time she saw Michael, she planned on making it clear that she didn’t like being left out of the loop when it came to patients.


	4. Hurt

Michael’s eyes fluttered open to the sound of the front doorbell ringing. Without sitting up, from his sedated state on the bedroom floor where he‘d passed out from the second session of painkillers, he chose to ignore the chiming and closed his eyes again, groaned and curled up into the foetal position. What seemed like mere seconds later, the doorbell rang again, accompanied by a knock. Whoever this person was, they were persistent, and it annoyed Michael to no end. Ignoring them further, he pulled the fleece blanket off his bed and let it fall over him.

“Come on, Michael. I know you’re in there.” A voice flew through the letter box and into the hallway, Michael’s eyes snapped open and he sat up, regretting the movement instantly as the drug induced brain fog hadn’t cleared and his head spun, sending his vision into nothing but a blurry mess. With a shake of his head, a petty attempt at clearing the fog, Michael stood, the fleece blanket and bed sheet falling onto the floor, leaving him dressed in his boxer. If he didn’t recognise the voice, he wouldn’t have stood and made his way to the door.   
“Samantha, what are you doing here?” He asked, the door now open, revealing the intern staring up at him from the porch steps.   
“People were worried about you.” Samantha lied. She was worried about him, no one else. In her defence, Michael hadn‘t been at work for two days and no one knew why. “Can I come in?”   
“Uh..” Michael glanced back at the mess throughout his house and shook his head. “Now isn’t a good time, Samantha.” He forced a smile which swiftly turned into a frown as Samantha pushed her way into his house.   
“Jesus, were you burgled?” Samantha looked around at the mess then back at Michael, it was only then when she saw the bruise surrounding a deep cut on Michael’s cheek, the one he sustained from his savage attack on the house. Every intent to confront Michael about Tomas’ death faded from her mind and pure concern took over. “What the hell happened, Michael?”   
“Exactly what you just said.” it was Michael’s turn to lie now. “I got home this morning from picking up some cold medicine and there were two guys in my house. The locksmith has just fixed the door for me, actually.” Michael frowned, lying had become a habit now, and he was good at it too. “One of them clocked me in the face, knocked me out then ran, I guess. I think I caught them early and scared ‘em as nothing major was taken, just money.” Michael hoped Samantha wouldn’t pick up on the slight slurry-ness to his words, his voice wrecked and hoarse.   
“Oh god..” Samantha sighed. “Have you called the cops?”  
“No. No, I don’t want them involved. It’s fine.”  
“Michael, you need to tell the police. What if it happens again?”  
“I said it’s fine, Samantha. Just drop it, please.”  
“Fine.” Samantha nodded, pursing her lips in annoyance. “At least let me clean up your face.”

Michael sighed and nodded, leading Samantha into the living room, the only room in the house that hadn’t been badly trashed. He grabbed the medical kit from the kitchen and bought it too her before sitting, facing her, on the couch. Samantha opened the kit and laid it out on the coffee table after pulling it within reach. She turned her attention to Michael, softly grasping his chin with her thumb and forefinger and turning his head so she could get a better look at the wound. The cut was about two inches long and fairly deep, the bruising around it was fresh, but to a trained eye like Samantha’s, appeared to be more than a few hours old. Without questioning it, though, Samantha cleaned up the wound with an alcohol swab and checked for any foreign bodies under the skin. 

“You’re going to need stitches.” She looked up and locked eyes with Michael, immediately frowning at the bloodshot gaze looking back at her. She shook her head and swallowed, looking down at the medical kit, collecting the surgical thread and sterilised needle.   
“You don’t have to do this, Samantha..”  
“Sammy.”  
“What?”  
“Call me Sammy. I’ve always hated ‘Samantha’. It seems too formal.”  
“Sammy..” Michael found himself smiling, be it only the tiniest sign of happiness, but it was a smile nonetheless. “Still, what I just said stands. You don’t have too..”  
“I know. I’m choosing too. Now hold still.”

After rubbing a small amount of topical anaesthetic into the area around the wound, Samantha began stitching the torn skin closed. Michael kept his eyes focused on Samantha the whole time, watching how she chewed on he lower lip in concentration, how her eyes never left the area she was working on, how her fingers were soft against his skin, her touch gentle and comforting. Something about her made Michael feel at ease. And he hated it.

“There. All better.” Samantha sat back and tilted her head, like she was admiring a work of art. Michael blinked a few times and cleared his throat as he reached the small compact mirror in the kit, bringing it up so he could look at the stitches.   
“Wow. Not bad for your first time.” He smiled, genuinely.   
“First time?” Samantha scoffed. “Dude, I’ve been stitching up episiotomy cuts for almost 4 years. This isn’t my first time doing stitches.”   
“Episiotomy?” Michael thought for a moment before raising his eyebrows at the brunette. “You were a midwife?”  
“Yeah. Fully qualified.” Samantha smiled sadly, her mind drifting to the reason she left midwifery to study internal medicine. “I thought you knew? I remember telling you, anyway.”  
“You probably did, but unfortunately, I have three groups of interns under my observation, I can’t remember everything.” Michael gave an apologetic smile and looked at Samantha. “Why’d you give it up?”  
“I figured it was time to move on and study something else. Medicine has always intrigued me. I left Tennessee a year ago. I needed a fresh start and I got one.” Samantha’s let the story drip off her tongue as if she’d practiced it over and over. Lying was something she hated doing, but it wasn’t the right time to open up and tell Michael exactly why she left Tennessee.  
“Tennessee, huh?”  
“Yup. Knoxville born and raised.” Samantha smiled, nodding. “Right. I’ll clear this away-” She gestured to the medical supplies on the coffee table. “-and I’ll make a start on helping you clean up around here.”  
“No. No it’s okay. I’ll do it.”  
“It’s no problem Michael. I’m happy to help.”  
“I appreciate it, I really do, but I have a certain way I like my things. It’s a bit of a habit of mine.”  
“Ah, right.” Samantha smiled. “I understand.” She stood and tidied away the bloodied cotton wool swabs, throwing them into a nearby trash can before squirting a liberal amount of sanitizer onto her hands, cleaning them efficiently.   
“I really do appreciate your help.” Michael stood, walking with her into the hallway. “I’ll be at work in the morning.”  
“Alright. Just take it easy, you’ve not got a concussion but any bang to the head requires the victim to take rest.” Samantha chuckled. “Of course I don’t need to tell you that.”  
“Thank you, doctor.” Michael rolled his eyes, not in his usual moody way, but in one of jest and playfulness. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
“You will.” Samantha nodded and opened the front door, her eyes fell on the lock and she immediately noticed the lack of splintered wood. It didn’t take a genius to work out that the door hadn’t been broken into. She shook her head, her mind settling on the fact that he might have accidentally left it on the latch upon leaving, and made her way down the steps, turning to wave at Michael before getting into her car. 

Michael waved back, watched her speed off down the road then closed the door, leaning his forehead against it and sighing deeply. It was a close call, one he hadn’t been expecting to deal with and it was a slight eye opener. Not enough to stop him from having another handful of mixed tablets to calm his nerves, though. He washed the medication down with a half can of stale beer that perched on the mantelpiece and collapsed on the couch. The house would now stay in its disheveled mess for a further eight or so hours. 

x-x-x-x-x

Samantha flicked through her textbooks, her eyes reading every word carefully. Bloodshot eyes? Check. Deterioration in physical appearance? Check. Drop in attendance at work? Check. Slurred speech? Check. Samantha sighed, leaning back in her chair as she sat in her study at home, she dropped her pen onto the notepad she had been writing in and shook her head, her hand carding through her hair in disbelief and tiredness. 

“Drug abuse.” She mumbled. “It can’t be.”


	5. Harder to Breathe

When Samantha next saw Michael, the following morning, she kept a close eye on him. Watching how he’d avoid telling anyone what happened, saying that he passed out as a result of a high temperature from a virus he’d picked up and that’s how he got the laceration on his face. This made Samantha frown, her suspicions about the doctor high up the list on things she was thinking about that day. Despite the crippling need within her to speak to Michael, to confirm or deny her suspicions, Samantha continued her duties for her shift. It was only around noon, did she realise that Michael, indeed, had a drug problem.   
A skateboarding accident meant a sixteen year old girl being admitted into their ward with a fractured clavicle and several bruises. Michael put the girl under Samantha’s care, instead of looking after her himself, which, since Samantha started at the hospital, had never happened before. After making sure the female was comfortable, she admitted the right amount of painkillers into her system and left her to rest, so she could fill in the appropriate paperwork, which she’d need Michael to sign, so that meant she’d have to find him, as he wasn’t in his office, much to Samantha’s surprise. 

“Justin, have you seen Michael?” She asked the young intern, who shrugged and shook his head.   
“Not since before the skater girl. Is he not in his office?”  
“Nope.” Samantha sighed, clutching her clipboard. “Do you know where he could be?”  
“Maybe check outside. He sometimes has lunch in the picnic area.”  
“Alright. I’ll go look. Page me if bed one needs more painkillers.” She forced a smile and headed down the corridor and into the elevator. She pressed the ground floor and tapped her foot impatiently as she descended in the metal contraption. 

Samantha’s eyes shifted side to side, scanning the picnic area for the raven-haired physician, but he couldn’t be found. She groaned in annoyance and pulled out her pager, tapping out a quick message to him, his reply only annoying her more. ‘I went home for lunch.’ flashed up on the screen and she shook her head, retrieving her phone from her pocket and calling him. 

“Hello?” Michael’s voice came through the speaker, at least, it sounded like Michael’s voice, but with a drunk-like slur to it.   
“Michael?” Samantha frowned.   
“Aw, Sammy! What’s up, chick?”   
“Michael, are you okay?” Samantha cocked her eyebrow, listening to the male on the other end of the phone cheerily chatting away.   
“Sammy I’m wonderful. Never been better.”  
“Okay. That’s good. Are you coming back to the hospital anytime soon?”  
“Oooh, yeah. I just gotta find my keys. I put them somewhere.” 

Samantha listened intently, the noise of glass breaking and several cracks and bangs echoed down the phone, into her ear. She swallowed hard and rushed back into the hospital and back up to the ward, all the while, keeping Michael talking on the phone. 

“Don’t worry about looking for your keys, Michael. It’s okay. I’ve got things covered here. Maybe I could come to you, huh?” Samantha desperately pressed the call elevator button.   
“Oh, no. You can’t come here. I still haven’t tidied.” the sound of Michael chuckling sent chills down Samantha’s spine.   
“I don’t mind about the mess.” After stepping out of the elevator, Samantha speed-walked down the corridor and into the staff room.   
“Sammy..” Michael’s once cheery state was now replaced with one of sadness, Samantha was sure she heard him sob. “Sammy I don’t feel well.”  
“Hey..hey you’re okay. Alright. Just stay on the phone, can you do that?”  
“Sa-” There was the distinct sound of the phone hitting the carpet followed by an evil, deathly silence.   
“Michael? Michael?! Shit!” Samantha’s hands began to tremble as she fumbled with her locker key, eventually twisting it in the lock and opening the door. “Michael, c’mon. Answer me.” Nothing but silence. 

Samantha pocketed her phone and grabbed her bag, quickly heading towards the front desk of the ward. She tapped the desk loudly, grabbing the attention of the head nurse. 

“Samantha..are you okay? You look a little flushed?”  
“I just got a call from Michael..I think he’s in trouble.”  
“What kind of trouble?”  
“I can’t say. Just..please can you cover for me here while I go see if he’s okay?”  
“Sure. I mean of course.” Nurse Harvelle nodded. “Go. I’ve got it.”

Samantha smiled in appreciation before heading out of the hospital as quickly as her tired legs would carry her. She was never one to break the speed limit, but a moment like this called for it and she ran three red lights on the way to Michael’s house. The tires of her ‘68 Pontiac GTO screeched loudly as she pulled up outside the farmhouse. Almost immediately, Samantha emerged from the car and ran towards his front door, knocking loudly, desperately. 

“Michael?” She called, dropping to a crouching position to look through the letterbox. She scanned the hallway, looking up the stairs as far as she could. The same mess from the day before was still strewn about the place and the house held an eerie silence. Samantha cussed and stood, leaning back before bringing her leg up and kicking out at the lock in one swift, precise movement, splintering the wood. With another harsh kick, the door swung open and she ran inside, searching the rooms downstairs, looking for any signs of Michael. After dropping her bag on the floor, Samantha ran up the stairs, her head turning to each side, before running into what seemed like Michael’s room. She stopped dead still in the doorway and looked around. Photo frames, smashed electricals and general items decorated the room in a way you’d only really see in a horror movie. When Samantha’s eyes fell on the other feature in the room, her stomach dropped. Michael laid by his bed on his left side, his back facing her. She rushed to him, and rolled him over. His skin was cold but clammy with sweat, his lips were a pale pink and foam like saliva poured from his mouth and onto the floor. 

“Michael, Michael can you hear me?” Samantha gently tapped Michael’s cheeks, trying to bring him around. “Michael, c’mon. Open your eyes.” She pressed two fingers to his neck and checked for a pulse, sighing with relief when she felt one, be it very weak. She knew he didn’t have much time. After delving into her pocket, she called 911, requesting the assistance of an ambulance. Once she knew help was on the way, she hung up the phone and turned her attention back to Michael. She pulled a small torch from her pocket and lifted Michael’s eyelids, shining the light into his eyes, frowning at the lack of response from his blown pupils. Samantha shifted Michael’s body into the recovery position after making sure his airway was completely clear and stood, searching around the room for anything that could give her any idea as to what he had taken. Between the mess, Samantha found three empty pill bottles and, not knowing whether he took the entire contents, she shoved them into her pockets and continued her search. 

The ambulance arrived fairly quickly, Samantha shouted down the stairs to signal where she was and two paramedics ran up them, into the bedroom and took over Samantha’s job of monitoring Michael’s vitals. That’s when realisation of the events unfolding in front of her came flooding into Samantha’s mind, wracking her body. She stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest and chewing on her fingernails, watching helplessly as the paramedic loaded Michael onto a stretcher. 

“Miss?” A paramedic held her shoulders and looked at her. “Miss?”  
“Huh?” Samantha tore her eyes from Michael and looked at her. “What?”  
“Come with us in the ambulance. You’re in shock.”  
“I’m okay.” Samantha pulled her hospital identification from inside her shirt. “I work at the hospital.”  
“Alright. Still, come with us.”

Samantha nodded and watched them carry Michael down the stairs and into the back of the ambulance. She picked up her bag and followed them, locking his front door as best she could before climbing into the ambulance. Her hand found his and she held it tightly, stroking her thumb over the back of it and staring sadly at her unconscious boss the entire journey back to the hospital.  
When they arrived, Samantha helped wheel him into the intensive care unit, ignoring the looks of horror from her colleagues. She began setting up an intravenous drip and preparing the catheter they’d place into his hand when someone grabbed her wrist and stopped her, pulling her away from the bed. She was about to bat them off and get back to helping Michael, until she looked up and into the eyes of Nurse Harvelle, who shook her head sadly. 

“Let the other doctors do their job, Samantha.”   
“I gotta help him..”  
“And you will, just not right now, okay? You’re shaking like a leaf.”  
“I’m fine.” Samantha pushed the nurse away and stood at the foot end of the bed Michael laid lifelessly on. Justin rushed into the private room and stopped beside Samantha, frowning at the sight.   
“What happened?”   
“Overdose.” Samantha spoke quietly, numbly. “He took an overdose.”  
“You found him?” Benny, the hospitals Chief of Medicine, asked Samantha, looking up from checking Michael’s pulse and heart rate. Samantha simply nodded. “Do you know what he took, Samantha? Did you find anything around him?”   
“No..” Samantha shook her head but then gasped, pulling the empty pill bottles from her pocket. “Wait, I found these.” She placed them into Benny’s hand, looking down at them and frowning deeply at the label. In bright red letters, the label read ‘Lyons Memorial Hospital’.  
“He’s gonna be okay, Samantha.” Benny placed the bottles on the steel table beside him. “We’re gonna do everything we can.”  
“I..” Samantha nodded. “I need some air.”

Justin guided Samantha down to the staff parking lot, grabbing a bottle of water on the way, and sat her down on the curb. He sat next to her and opened the bottle, passing it to her. 

“Drink.” He ordered. Samantha frowned and had a couple of sips, staying quiet and staring at the space ahead of her. “He will be okay, Samantha..you found him in time. He’ll have a gastric irrigation and he’ll be back to himself in no time.”  
“No.” Samantha shook her head, still not making any eye contact.   
“Samantha..”  
“No. He may be okay from the overdose. But he’s gonna lose his job.”  
“What?”  
“Justin..those pills were from the hospital. And they weren’t prescribed for him.” Samantha looked at Justin, deadpan. “Michael’s been stealing drugs from the hospital.”


	6. The Reality

Samantha refused to talk to anyone for the next few hours. Michael still hadn’t come around but he was alive, Samantha was grateful for that. She wouldn’t normally care as much as she did, but she felt some what responsible for Michael’s overdose. She had her suspicions, but she stayed quiet about it. Maybe if she had told someone, Michael would be getting the help he needed, rather than lying in a hospital bed, unconscious, after getting his stomach pumped. Occupying her mind with work wasn’t helping either. Her attention span was very short and she felt like she’d do patients more harm than good in this state, so she handed the care of her patients over to the nurses and stayed in the staff room filling out paper work.   
As soon as her shift finished, she made her way to Michael’s room in intensive care to check in on him. She sighed and pulled a chair up to the side of the bed and sat down. Her eyes stayed focused on her hands and she picked at her nails, frowning deeply. Guilt squeezed at her heart, making it feel heavy. Eventually she looked up at the man in the bed, watching his chest rise and fall, listening to the heart monitor beep rhythmically in the otherwise quiet room. 

“Oh Michael..” she kept her voice quiet, her hand reaching shakily for his, feeling the now warm digits squeezes hers ever so slightly. “Why did you do this?” Her gaze fell on their hands, her eyes beginning to water as tears attempted to make their escape. “I should’ve told someone..I could’ve stopped you doing this to yourself.” She squeezed her eyes shut and bought his hand up to her lips, kissing the back of it gently.   
“Sammy?” Michael’s voice was barely audible but cut through the silence and reached Samantha’s ears easily. She immediately snapped her head up.   
“Michael..you’re okay, it‘s okay. Don’t try to talk much, your throat probably hurts.” She stood and grabbed the remote for the bed, pressing the button to sit Michael up ever so slightly. After that, she filled a plastic cup with water from the pitcher on the side table and bought it to Michael’s lips. “Drink, you need it.” Michael sipped at the drink, groaning as the liquid slid down his dry throat.  
“What happened to me?”  
“You don’t remember?” Samantha placed the half empty cup on the table and sat back down.   
“I remember being on the phone..I don’t know who I was talking too, but then everything went blurry, then black.” Michael’s eyes barely opened as he spoke, his mind racing to figure out what had happened to him.   
“You took an overdose.” Samantha sighed, shaking her head. “You went home and I called you..you were on the phone to me when you collapsed. It’s my fault. I should’ve told someone.”  
“Told someone?” Michael coughed, moving to sit up a little more. “  
“I know you’ve got a drub problem, Michael. I know. The signs were all there yesterday, screaming in my face but I didn’t work it out until last night and I kept it to myself. Hell, I thought it was just a one off thing. Maybe you needed something to take the edge off..”  
“That’s all it is.” Michael tried to make his voice sound reassuring, but watched helplessly as Samantha shook her head, her eyes boring into his. “I promise.”  
“I don’t believe you, Michael. I’m not as stupid as I look, you know.”  
“I..I never said you were.”  
“So don’t lie to me.”  
“What makes you think you know a damn thing about me?” Michael began to raise his voice. “You know nothing about me!”  
“I know a damn sight more than you think. I know you were never burgled yesterday. I know that you haven’t been off work sick. I know it was you who trashed your house. And I know it was you who stole the drugs from the hospital.”  
“No..” Michael stumbled over his next few words before looking Samantha dead in the eyes. “No one else knows about the pills..right? You didn’t tell anyone?”  
“I didn’t tell Benny, if that’s what you mean. Only Justin and I know.”  
“You told Justin?”  
“Yeah..but don’t worry. I‘ve made him swear to secrecy. I‘m covering for you too. I told Benny I prescribed them for you because you came to me with a medical problem a couple of days ago. He thinks you took more than you should’ve because you’ve been down recently. I didn’t say why, claiming that I had no idea but he seemed to understand really quickly.” Samantha stared back at Michael. “Why is that?”  
“I don’t know..”  
“I think you do but fine. You don’t have to tell me.”  
“Why do you care, Sammy? Huh? Why the sudden interest in my stupid pathetic existence?”  
“Because I care when someone tries to kill themselves! That’s the kind of person I am.”  
“I didn’t try to kill myself!” Michael leaned back against the pillows and stared up at the ceiling. “it was an accident. The overdose, I mean.”   
“What?”  
“I’m addicted to Alprasomlam and Oxycodone, okay? I have been for three years.”  
“..What?” Samantha repeated herself, stunned and taken aback by Michael’s confession.  
“Please..don’t tell anyone.”  
“Michael..this is serious. You need help.”  
“And I’ll get help, okay? But I’ll do it alone. No one needs to know. The less they know the better.”  
“Michael..”  
“Please, Sammy. If you care as much as you say you do, you’ll keep this too yourself.”  
“I can’t, Michael.” Samantha shook her head and stood up.  
“Sammy..” Michael caught her hand in his and stopped her from leaving the room. “I’m scared, okay? I so scared. I don’t want to lose what little I have but I will if you say anything..”  
“Don’t..don’t do that.”  
“It’s true. Look..I’ll get help. I promise. I’ll take some time off work, see a therapist. I’ll sort myself out, but I need this kept between you and I. Please, Sammy.” Michael’s eyes glassed over and tears slipped down his pale cheeks. Samantha looked at him, her expression softening and she sat back down, keeping her hand in his.   
“I’ll keep it to myself. But you’ve got to get help, Michael. You have too. You’re gonna kill yourself if you don’t. Let this be the eye opener you need.” she squeezed his hand and reached up with her other hand, brushing the tears from his cheeks and Michael found himself leaning into her touch, the comfort he received from the touch alone was immense. “You don’t have to tell me what happened three years ago, but you can deal with it without the drugs. I know you can.”  
“Thank you.” Michael squeezed her hand in return. “For everything. If it weren’t for you..I wouldn’t be here right now.”

Samantha only nodded in acknowledgement, her mind was screaming for her to tell someone the truth, but she was going to go against her better judgment and keep it quiet. As far as Benny knows, Michael tried to end his life because he became depressed. That’s all. She figured there wouldn’t be any repercussions from it as long as Michael got the help he needed, and she was going to make damn sure he received that help.

After an hour or so, Michael had drifted off to sleep so Samantha decided it was best she go home and get some rest too, she had another twelve hour shift the next day after all. On her way out of the hospital, she passed by her ward and asked Justin to see her in the staff room. 

“Hey..is Michael okay?”   
“Yeah..yeah he responded well to the gastric irrigation and he was awake for a bit earlier. He’s promised he’s gonna get some help.”  
“For his depression?”  
“Yeah..yeah. For his depression.”  
“You did good, Samantha.” He patted her shoulder. “You’re putting your job on the line by keeping it from Benny but I promise I wont tell him that Michael stole the drugs.”  
“Thank you.” Samantha smiled appreciatively. “I’m gonna go home and get some rest. Page me if anything changed with Michael?”  
“I will.” Justin nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

Samantha nodded and grabbed her bag before leaving the hospital for the night. Her intention was to curl up in bed with a mug of camomile tea and a medical textbook, but instead, she sat in her office for three hours researching rehab centres before dragging her tired body to her bedroom, without tea and the textbook, and falling asleep within twenty or so minutes. 

x-x-x-x-x

When Michael woke up the next day, he felt like he’d been run over by a train, his body ached all over and his head pounded. He wasn’t sure if it was a side affect from the events the day before or if it was the horrid hospital lights shining down on him from the ceiling. He sighed and sat up slowly, just in time to see Samantha walk into the room and shut the door behind her. She was holding a tray and Michael dreaded to think what monstrosity the hospital called food would be on it. To his surprise, when Samantha placed the tray on the bed, it was filled with fries, a burger and a chocolate brownie. 

“Yeah, I went to the diner up the road.” Samantha smiled. “Thought you’d want actual food.”  
“You’re amazing.” Michael chuckled hoarsely, unwrapping the burger and taking a bite, humming at the taste.   
“I know.” She sat in the chair and rummaged through her backpack, pulling out a few sheets of paper, placing them next to the tray. Michael wiped his mouth on a napkin and picked them up, his eyes reading the words on the top page curiously.   
“What’s this?” He asked, not making any sense of it.   
“It’s a residential rehab centre. I’ve done some research, it seems like a nice place, very friendly staff and their success rate for patients is ninety-six percent.”  
“Sammy..”  
“Just hear me out.” Samantha took the paper from him and shuffled through it until she came to the programme schedule. “It’s a twelve week plan, the staff are healthcare professionals and they do loads of other activities too.”  
“Sammy stop!” Michael growled. “I don’t need to go to rehab. I’m fine, okay? I can do this on my own. I don’t need rehab and I don’t need you going behind my back researching shit I don’t need without my permission.”  
“Michael..I’m just trying to help.”  
“No. You’re getting yourself involved. Just like you did with Tomas. Just back off.”

Samantha blinked at Michael, processing everything he just said to her, and nodded slowly, standing up without a word. 

“You know what?” Samantha began calmly, shrugging her backpack onto one shoulder and gripping the information pages in her hand. “Yeah, I’m getting myself involved, it’s what I do. And if that annoys you, then I’m sorry. But if you even care a little bit about yourself. Or about anyone that cares about you, then you’ll take this-” She shoved the papers back to him, staring him down. “-and you’ll make the right choice by getting yourself checked into this place. If you don’t, the reality is that you will die. And believe me, it won’t keep me up at night, because I’ve done everything I can. If you want to be selfish, then fine. I’ll leave you too it.”

Michael watched, slightly stunned at the sudden confidence Samantha had just exuded, as she walked out of the room, the blinds on the door rattling when the door shut. He glanced down at the paper and sighed, pushing it onto the side table along with his tray, his appetite now extinguished.


	7. The Addict

When Michael felt he was able to get out of bed, he checked himself out of the hospitals care. He collected what Samantha had bought for him into his satchel and headed towards the Chief of Medicine’s office. After knocking three times, he walked into the room. 

“Doctor Lafitte? Can I speak to you for a minute?”  
“Of course, Michael. And call me Benny all the time we’re not on the ward, please.” Benny smiled and gestured for Michael to sit down. Michael forced a smile and sat, looking at the doctor.   
“I just want you to know that I’m sorry for what I did.”  
“Don’t apologise. Depression isn’t something you need be sorry for, as you know, it’s a medical condition.”  
“Yeah..” Michael tried not to roll his eyes at the male, depression wasn’t the problem, addiction was. Not that Michael saw it as much of a problem, even though it did nearly kill him.   
“Have you made any plans to see Doctor Pike?”  
“No. In all due respect, I’d rather seek help outside of this hospital. This hospital is filled with people I work with, I’d rather people know as little as possible.”  
“Understandable.” Benny smiled. “I’ve made some plans and I’ve managed to get your shifts covered for three weeks.”  
“You want me out of work that long?” Michael frowned.   
“I want you back to perfect health. In that time, I want you to get help and come back feeling one hundred percent.”  
“Okay..” Michael nodded, it wasn’t okay but Benny was is boss, if he didn’t agree to his terms, he’d probably lose his job. “Thank you.”  
“Don’t thank me. Just go get better, alright.” Benny smiled and stood, holding his hand out for Michael to shake.

Michael left Benny’s office feeling uneasy. He could feel the fingers of his demons trying their best to claw their way into his consciousness and it made him feel sick. The three days he’d spent laying in the hospital bed was the longest he’d been without a fix for three long years and his body wasn’t used to it. After successfully passing through the ward he worked on, Michael sluggishly made his way to his car when he got outside, leaning against the vehicle, his breath quick and taking in much needed oxygen. His body was still recovering and it made him feel tired, like his body was made of lead and nauseous. 

“Need some help?” Michael almost jumped out of his skin at the sudden voice. He lifted his head and blinked a few times at the owner. Samantha blinked back at him.   
“No. I’m fine.”  
“You can barely keep your eyes open.” Samantha’s hand reached for his and took his car keys. “Get down from your high horse and left me help you.” Michael rolled his eyes at her comment but found himself smiling a little at it too. He’d come to appreciate her assertiveness and confidence.   
“Fine, but the radio stays on the station it’s already on. No screwing with my music.”

With a smile, Samantha and Michael got into the vehicle. Michael leaned his head back against the headrest and yawned, glancing over at Samantha who was busy adjusting the seat so she could reach the pedals and see out of the windshield. 

“I never realised how short you are until this moment.” Michael commented, his lips barely curled into a smirk.   
“Shut up.” Samantha adjusted the wing mirror and rear view mirror before starting the car, smiling to herself. As it purred into life, the radio drowned out the silence that had fallen in the vehicle, making Samantha smile more and tap her fingers in rhythm to the classic rock station. “Never had you down as the kinda guy who’d listen to this.” she glanced at Michael as she pulled the car out of the parking lot and towards Michael’s home.   
“Judging a book by it’s cover, Sammy? That’s so un-doctor-ly.”  
“You’re one to talk.” Samantha frowned, concentrating on the road. “You had me pegged as a useless intern, remember?”  
“Hey, I apologised for that.”  
“I know. I’m just saying. I don’t know anything about you and you wont let me in so I have to make my assumptions..”  
“Don’t start, Sammy.” Michael sighed, closing his eyes. “I don’t feel like fighting.”

Samantha stayed quiet for a moment, pulling the car to a stop outside Michael‘s house and getting out, walking to the passengers side to open the door for him. Michael got out, snatching his bag from the back seat. She continued her silence while she helped him to the front door before frowning.

“You’re the one who does all the fighting.” she whispered, shaking her head sadly.  
“You’re really going to go there huh?” Michael stood up straight, his eyes snapping open and glaring at Samantha. He took a deep breath and shook his head. “Maybe you don’t know anything about me, but did you ever think why?”  
“Because you’re a private person.”  
“Because I’m protecting you. I don’t get close to anyone anymore and you saw first hand why. I’m a mess, Sammy, and I hurt everyone I start caring about. You don’t deserve that.”  
“I don’t need protecting.” Samantha looked at Michael, her eyes locking with his. Michael couldn’t bring himself to look away, Samantha just had that affect on him. “I’m pretty sure I know more than anyone else in that hospital and I’ve been there for the shortest time. So don’t bullshit me with a sob story on how you want to protect me, when you’re in the same boat. You don’t know me, either. Don’t you dare think for one second that I need protecting, especially from someone like you-”

Michael’s thought process had evaded him, his eyes blinked heavily before closing as he leaned in and captured Samantha’s lips with his, cutting her off from her sentence. Samantha gasped against his lips and leaned into his touch when he bought up his hand to cup her cheek. The kiss, however, was cut short when Michael pulled away. 

“No. No I can’t.” He shook his head and fumbled for his keys. “Dammit, Sammy. This isn’t supposed to happen between us.”  
“Michael..”  
“No. Don’t. This isn’t supposed to happen, and it’s not going to happen so just..just stay away from me until I return to work.”   
“No, Michael..” Samantha was about to mention that, due to the fact she had to break his door down to get inside the night of his overdose, the locks had to change in order to be fixed and his key wouldn’t work, but Michael was so wrapped up in his panic over the fact he’d let down his guard and felt the comfort of another persons lips for the first time since the death of his girlfriend, that he didn’t notice and after putting the full force of his body behind trying to open the door, he cussed as he fell off the step and into a pile of limbs on the floor. “The locks got changed..” Samantha finished her sentence and held out the keys. 

Michael pulled himself back to his feet and took the keys, a grumpy look spreading across his face but sighing in relief as the key turned in the lock and opened the door to his home. 

“You still don’t get to decide who protects me.” Samantha managed to say before Michael stepped all the way inside.   
“I know I don’t. But I decide who I get close too. And this little..mistake between us just now needs to be forgotten about because I’, choosing not to get close to you.” Michael dropped his bag by the door and looked at Samantha. “Thanks for driving me home.”

Samantha watched as Michael closed the door before walking away, her hands sliding into the pockets of her hoodie. Her intentions were never to be kissed by Michael, and she was a little shocked that it had even happened. All she wanted was for Michael to open up a little, tell her exactly why he wouldn’t attend the rehab centre, or even why he became addicted to drugs in the first place, but not only did she not get that, she now got a whole load of confusing feelings to go along with it.   
Within a fairly short amount of time, Samantha reached her house and after letting herself in, she made her way to the kitchen to make a cup of tea and sat at the kitchen table so she could finally open the weeks worth of mail she’d been ignoring. After that, she moved herself into her bedroom to get changed out of her scrubs and into a pair of flannel pyjamas. As she pulled her pager from her pocket, it beeped loudly in her hand. She smiled as she read the words on the screen. 

“Thank you for tidying up..you didn’t have too. I appreciate it. M”

Samantha sat on her bed and sighed, her mind thinking back to the four hours she’d spent cleaning up Michael’s house after the fall out from his episode. It was the least she could do for him as it was something she’d want someone else to do if she were in the same situation. She looked down at the screen and frowned, tapping out a message. 

“The photos are in a shoe box in your closet. I wasn’t sure if you’d want them back up or not. You’re welcome. Get some rest. I’m here if you need anything.” 

After hitting send, she let her body drop back into the pillows and stared up at the ceiling for the longest time. She wasn’t going to stop trying to help Michael, but she thought it was best that she take a backseat, be less pushy. Despite their tiny romantic moment, she realised that it was only pushing him away and, considering the circumstance, that was the last thing she wanted. She sighed and curled up under the covers, hoping that the next twelve or so hours bought her nothing but much needed sleep.

x-x-x-x-x

Michael spent the next twelve hours staring at the wall in his kitchen, his hands gripping a bottle of Xanax tightly. His skin was pale, sweat beaded on his forehead and his lover lip trembled. Sleep wasn’t something he had on his mind, despite his body being drained to exhaustion and his muscles twitching painfully. Insomnia was the enemy when it came to withdrawal, something Michael knew all too well, so taking the Xanax seemed like the logical thing to do, at least that’s what his mind was screaming at him. Shakily, he poured three tablets onto his hand and threw them into his mouth, dry swallowing the drugs easily. Usually, he’d breathe a sigh of relief after administering his fix, but this time his stomach turned and he stood quickly, almost stumbling into the kitchen counter as his hands gripped the edge of the sink. In a matter of seconds, he shoved two fingers down his throat and began wretching. The dry-heaving hurt his stomach and made him wince in pain but failed to make him stop and he squeezed his eyes shut as the acidic taste of bile burned up his throat. When he opened his eyes again, he stared at the three tablets sitting in a puddle of yellow froth. That’s when he breathed a sigh of relief, that’s when he realised Samantha was right. That’s when he grabbed his keys and left his house. 

x-x-x-x-x

Samantha’s pager bleeped frantically on the bedside table and the sound of the doorbell ringing echoed around the house. Samantha groaned and rolled over, pulling the covers around her more as her hand slipped from the bed and felt around blindly for the pager, grasping it easily and bringing it within eyesight. She frowned at the screen and sat up, quickly getting out of bed. After pulling on her dressing gown she made her way to the door and opened it, tilting her head. 

“Michael..”  
“I didn’t mean to wake you..” Michael’s voice was pained, full of guilt. “But I need your help.”


	8. It's Time

Samantha was taken aback when Michael collapsed in tears on her front door step. After helping him inside and sitting him on her couch, she made him a mug of hot chocolate and sat with him, trying to make sense of his desperate state. Michael sobbed, cussed and apologised over and over to Samantha, his guard now well and truly broken by the young female. Samantha noted how his body would tense when she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, and how he’d pull away when she rubbed his back in an attempt to calm his sobs. This went on for a few hours until Michael’s cries and apologies died down enough so Samantha could question him properly. 

“You actually want my help?” She asked, her voice soft and comforting.   
“I..” Michael chewed his lip and looked at Samantha sadly.   
“Answer honestly, Michael. There’s no judgement here. It‘s kinda my rule nowadays.”  
“Then no. I don’t want your help. I need it.”   
“Then you’ll get it. But you need to be willing to help yourself in all this too. Which means listening and it means agreeing to professional help.”  
“Rehab..?”  
“Yeah. Look at the mess your in, Michael. Weight it all out. What’s the only option, the only thing that can truly help you?”  
“I know..” Michael sighed and rubbed his sore and tired eyes. “Will you take me?”  
“I was planning on it.” Samantha smiled softly, squeezing his shoulder gently as she stood. “I’ll give the centre a call. You just relax and finish your cocoa.” 

Samantha watched Michael carefully all the while she was on the phone to the rehab centre. She watched how he bit at his thumb nail, due to nerves and worry most likely, and how his left leg bounced up and down restlessly. At one point, she thought Michael was going to make a run for it but he just stood and walked into the kitchen where she was, sitting himself at the table as close to her as he could manage. Samantha sighed and offered him a smile, to with he smiled, be it all sadly, back at her. Michael’s attention was grabbed when Samantha hung the phone up and took his hand. He looked up at her, his hand squeezing hers, subconsciously seeking comfort. 

“They know you’re on the way to them. We can go back to your place and pack a few things first, then I’ll take you there. Okay?”

Michael simply nodded and stood, his hand still locked with hers, something Samantha found a little worrying, as this was the most physical contact they’d ever had since she started at the hospital. Michael waited by the door, hugging himself immediately when Samantha let go of his hand, watching her pull on an oversized hooded sweater.

“You’re still in your pyjamas..” he commented.   
“What?” Samantha looked down at herself and cussed. “Give me a minute to change.”  
“Don’t..don’t be long..”  
“I won’t.” Samantha flashed Michael a smile and ran up the stairs. After dressing in more appropriate attire, she met Michael back by the front door. “See. I was only a few minutes.” Michael nodded at that, still hugging himself. “C’mon.”

Samantha led Michael to her car and waited for him to get in before getting in herself. Frowning, she started the car and pulled it out of the garage, speeding off down the road.

“How did you get here, Michael?”  
“Walked..”  
“How did you know where I lived?” She queried.   
“Same way you knew where I lived. I looked on the hospitals records.”  
“Ah..fair enough.” Samantha fell quiet for a moment and chewed her lip in thought, concentrating on the road in front of her. “Can I ask you something?”   
“Sure..” Michael dreaded the next few words to leave Samantha’s lips, he pulled the sleeves of his sweater down over his hands and lowered his head, looking at a stray thread in the cuff.   
“What made you change your mind? You all but threw my offer in my face a few days ago.”  
“I took more pills.” Michael confessed, remembering the no judgment rule Samantha had put in place earlier. “I threw them up, though.”  
“Why?”  
“Why’d I throw them up? Or why did I take them?”  
“Both.” Samantha glanced at him. “You don’t have to answer anything if you don’t want too, but the more you tell me now, the easier it’ll be to tell the staff at the rehab centre what’s going on with you. I can help you explain it too them.”  
“I took them because I’m an idiot. When I can’t sleep, or when I feel angry, which is mostly at myself, I take the drugs. They make me forget, be it only for a few hours, but at least I forget, you know?” Michael sighed. “You probably don’t know. You seem like you got it all together. I doubt you’ve got anything you’d wanna forget.”  
“I thought we spoke about judging a book by its cover, Michael. I’ve got things I want to forget, hell, I try desperately to forget about them every waking second of the day, but that’s a story for another day.” Samantha forced a smile. “What made you want to throw them up?”  
“You.” Michael watched Samantha as she glanced at him, her brows furrowed in confusion.  
“I don’t understand.”  
“I thought of you. I thought of how you said you were getting yourself involved. I know you care about me. And the way you were when Tomas died..man, I couldn’t do that to you.” Michael tore his gaze away from Samantha and back down at the stray thread, picking at it. “I thought about our kiss too.”  
“That kiss meant nothing, Michael. It was just high emotions getting in the way.” Samantha didn’t mean a word she said, but she thought it was what Michael wanted to hear, and his feelings mattered at that very moment in time.  
“You’re right.” Michael frowned deeply, looking out the window so even if she were looking, Samantha wouldn’t be able to see the look of complete hurt on his face. Even though he hadn’t admitted it, to himself or anyone else, Michael was falling for his intern. 

Inside Michael’s house, Samantha helped him pack a few things he’d need for his stay at the rehab centre. She watched as he placed his toothbrush, deodorant and some clothes into a small duffle bag. 

“Did you want to take some of the photos?” She questioned, immediately regretting it when Michael’s face twisted in pain.  
“No. Those wont help me one bit.”  
“Okay..I’m sorry. I won’t mention them again.”

Michael held his bag tightly in his hand and looked around his bedroom with a sigh. 

“What is it? What are you feeling right now?”  
“Shame. Guilt.” Michael nodded as he spoke. “Hatred towards myself for letting it get this far.”  
“You’re entitled to feel that way, Michael, but just think, in a few weeks time, those feelings will start to disappear. You’ll accept you made mistakes, like every single human being does and you’ll be able to live with them and learn from them.”  
“I know.”  
“Let’s get going, huh?” Samantha looked up at Michael, who nodded and handed her his keys.   
“Look after them for me. I’d take them with me but right now, I don’t trust myself to not check myself back out after you leave.”  
“Okay. But if it’s any consolation, I trust you not to do that.”

x-x-x-x-x

When they arrived at the rehab centre, Michael’s nerves were sky high. As soon as Samantha appeared by his side after getting out of the car, he took her hand, holding it tightly. Samantha looked down at their fingers locked together and smiled to herself before guiding him into the building and towards reception. 

“Hi. Michael Cohen for checking in.” Samantha spoke for Michael after studying him and deciding he was too busy looking at his surroundings nervously.   
“Alright. If you’d like to come this way. Our head psychiatrist is expecting him.” the receptionist smiled politely and showed them to a examination room where the psychiatrist was waiting.  
“Thank you.” Samantha smiled and walked in after Michael, closing the door behind her. As she sat next to Michael on the chairs facing the desk, she let Michael take her hand again, knowing he needed the reassurance.   
“Hello, welcome to McCloskey Rehabilitation and Recovery Residential Centre.” The doctor held his hand out to Michael with a smile. “I’m Doctor Paige.”   
“Hi.” Michael shook his hand reluctantly.   
“So, you must be Michael. I hear you’re checking in with us today for help with a drug addiction, is that correct?” 

Michael looked at Samantha who nodded at him, he hated this and he hated talking about his problem, so the reassurance from his new friend was more than welcome. 

“That’s correct.” he spoke quietly, his voice childlike and full of fear.   
“Well you’ve come to the right place. We’ve got a great, twelve week programme with a very high success rate.”  
“He already knows.” Samantha smiled. “Sorry for interrupting but I’ve already told him what you have to offer.”  
“And you’re his girlfriend?” Doctor Paige looked up at Samantha with a friendly smile.   
“Uh. No. I’m just a friend.”  
“Oh. Sorry. My mistake. You’re the one who called us, correct?”  
“Yes. Michael came to me for help and I thought this would be the best course of action. Rehab what the best option for someone with Michael’s medical needs.”  
“You’ve thought right. Michael, can you give us a little insight of your condition?”

Michael stayed quiet, shaking his head and looking at the same stray thread on the cuff of his sweater. Samantha gave his hand a squeeze but he didn’t look up, he’d shut himself off and she knew he wasn’t going to open up any time soon. 

“That’s okay, no one is going to force you to talk if you don’t want too. Maybe Samantha can give me something to go on here?”  
“I’ll certainly try my best.” Samantha smiled. “What do you need to know?”  
“What kind of drugs is he addicted too? Heroine? Cocaine?”  
“Prescription drugs. Alprasomlam mainly.” Samantha cut the doctor off before he could list a whole variety of ’recreational’ drugs. “He overdosed on Oxycodone recently though.”  
“How recently?”  
“Six days ago. And he took some in the early hours of this morning but he purged himself of them.”  
“Okay. And how long has he been addicted to them?”  
“he told me three years.”  
“Michael, nod your head if that’s correct.” The doctor watched Michael nod his head. “Okay. Thank you. That will be enough to go on for now. In the following twelve weeks, we hope you’ll open up to us so we can really help you.”  
“He will.” Samantha interrupted again.   
“I will.” Michael confirmed, his hand squeezing Samantha’s for comfort. 

Samantha watched the doctor finish off the paper work and place it to one side before looking up with a the same friendly smile, which if she was honest, made her feel a little uneasy, but people that happy always made her feel that way.

“Alright. So, let me tell you just a little bit about the programme and our centre. As well as the usual group and single therapy sessions, over the years we’ve found that patients have responded well to recreational activities so we incorporate that into our programme. On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays we allow the patients to take part in a wide variety of classes, such as yoga, cooking, self defence. That kind of thing.” The doctor handed Samantha a pamphlet. “On Tuesdays and Thursdays, family and close friends are allowed to visit their loved ones within the centre, they can stay for lunch, enjoy outdoor and indoor activities with them and even speak with a therapist to see how their doing, if they desire. At weekends, staff organise activities outside of the centre. These include horseback riding, mini golf, hiking and canoeing, as we’ve seen benefits to this. Once a month, we organise a camping trip for residents that have been here for a four weeks or longer. We don’t believe in keeping the patients tied up in the centre, as that makes them feel caged in and that feeling isn’t beneficial at all. Saying that though, patients can chose to stay within the centre. We have fifteen acres of land at out disposal, complete with a tennis court, Quiet Reflection areas and a swimming pool, which is only used in the summer months so you’re one of the really lucky ones seeing as it’s July. There are plenty of picnic areas for when family/friends visit too.” The doctor looked at Michael. “You’ll like it here, Michael. We’ll make you feel as at ease as possible. All we ask for is a little co-operation and for you to allow time. Because this won’t change your life in three days and your brain will convince you it’s not helping at all.”  
“Thank you.” Michael nodded.  
“It’s my pleasure. One of our nurses will show you to your room, if you can just wait in reception for her.”

Michael nodded and stood, almost dragging Samantha from the room with him. As soon as they reached the reception area, he pulled Samantha into his arms and buried his head into the crook of her neck. When he felt her wrap her arms around him in a tight embrace, he relaxed a little and breathed in her scent, letting the smell of apples and coffee relax him further. 

“You can do this, Michael.” She whispered, bringing a hand up to rest of the back of his head, holding him protectively.   
“You’ll visit me?” Michael’s words were muffled by Samantha’s neck but she heard them loud and clear.  
“Michael, look at me.” Samantha pulled away from the male enough to encourage him to look up and at her. She looked into his teary eyes and smiled.   
“I will visit you as often as I can, okay? You have my word.” She stroked her thumb over his cheek and wiped away what tears had fallen. “You are strong. You can do this.”  
“Thank you, Sammy.” Michael smiled through his emotion, the first genuine smile Samantha had witnessed. It made her smile back at him.  
“Mr Cohen, I’m here to show you to your room.” A nurse interrupted their little moment, making Michael’s smile fade.   
“You’ve got this.” Samantha reassured him, letting his hands drop from hers. “You’ve got this.” She repeated, this time with a nod.   
“I’ve got this.” Michael nodded, turning to look at the nurse. “Okay.”

Samantha watched as Michael walked down the corridor and out of sight. She blew out an exhausted breath, she was saddened that it had come to this, but she was relieved Michael was finally receiving the help he desperately needed. Now all she had to do was let Benny know the current situation and continue to be there for Michael as much as she could.


	9. Hold on 'til May

Two weeks ago, Michael felt Samantha’s arms around him in a protective way, and it was the first time in three years that he allowed himself to get even a little bit close to another human being. When her arms were no longer around him, he thought it was the last time he’d feel them around him.  
Two weeks ago, Michael was shown around the room he’d call his own for twelve long weeks and he hated it. The décor was a mix of shabby chic and the usual hospital white he was so used too but with a hint of five star hotel. Everything was pristine, neat and tidy, it made Michael uneasy.   
Fresh towels were delivered to his room at exactly nine am every day, his dirty laundry collected from the room at the same time, returning clean and smelling like flowers the next day. Michael was half expecting the facility to have a cleaner for each room, but that was his job. “Keep your room how you want it, we want you to be comfortable.” He remembered the nurse telling him on his second day at the centre when he apologised profusely for having the clothes he arrived in spread across the floor where he’d literally taken them off and climbed into bed.   
It wasn’t that he was unclean and messy, it was what he liked things a certain way. At home, he’d have a pile of tshirts by the side of the dresser instead of in the drawers. They were always folded and clean, but he never really saw the point in keeping them in a drawer because they were always the first item of clothing he’d find to wear every single day, and old habits die hard. 

Even though fourteen days had gone by, Michael wasn’t feeling anymore at ease than he was when he moved into the rehabilitation centre for his twelve week programme. He was constantly on edge, always looking over his shoulder, flinching at the smallest noise or whenever someone tried to talk to him. He felt like a very little fish in a very, very big pond. In light of that feeling, Michael hid himself away as much as he could, a very unsuccessful feat, considering the staff practically forced the residents to have at least an hour of fresh air a day, and at least six hours out of their rooms and socialising. Which, if he was honest, Michael had never been very good at, even as a child he’d sit and play video games while his parents hosted parties and gatherings, ignoring everyone around him. 

On the fifteenth day, Michael sat with his back against a large willow tree, located around the back of the huge rehab building, at the far end of the first of two fields in the grounds. His legs were pulled to his chest and he hugged him, resting his chin on his knees. Opposite him sat Samantha, picking at the small blades of grass around them. The warm, summer breeze tickled their skin and tousled their hair, making small strands fall from Samantha’s messy bun. She sighed, her eyes looking Michael over, frowning at the pale, almost grey colour of his skin, the pimples on his chin and how he looked thin, malnourished, yet chubby at the same time. 

“Have you been eating okay?” She asked, twisting a blade of grass between her fingers.   
“Yeah.” Michael’s reply was flat, his willingness to allow Samantha to know anything about the centre was very minimal. He felt as if it was a chore for her, to visit him in such confinements, and he didn’t want to bring her mood down by complaining about the crippling nightmares he’d been getting every night for the last week, or the way he’d been purging after ever meal, unable to keep anything down due to withdrawals.   
“Michael..please don’t lie to me.” Samantha smiled sadly, her hand nudging his gently in an attempt to get him to allow her to comfort him. His hand flinched, going stiff for a few moments before slowly sliding into hers, their fingers locking together.   
“On my third day here, I was taken to solitary confinement.” His voice was quiet, almost like he didn’t want Samantha too hear, he didn’t, for obvious reasons, but he couldn’t lie to the sweet, innocent woman in front of him.   
“Why?”   
“I trashed my room.” Michael bit his lip and looked away from Samantha’s gaze, glancing over the field, watching the other residents and their families laughing and playing together like they would do if they were at a park, or at the beach. His face scrunched as a bitter hatred coursed throughout him. “I shouldn’t be here.” He continued. “I should be doing that.” Michael pointed at one of the residents and his partner sitting on a bench having lunch together, with their child who could’ve only been a few months old. “Not in here, obviously. But I should be doing that. Having lunch with her and BB. I should be having fun with my child, but I’m in here, thinking about my pointless existence and wanting nothing more than to break everything I see.”

Samantha frowned, nodding as she listened to everything Michael had to say at that moment. Listening as he spoke about this nameless female and the child he mentioned called ‘BB’. She listened as Michael spoke about them in a way that filled her heart with a little warmth, hearing how they took a day trip by train to a seaside town, made sandcastles on the beach and ate ice cream on the pier. Michael’s hand squeezed hers in a strong, yet soft grip. 

“Who are you talking about, Michael?” She questioned hopefully.   
“Chloe.” Michael’s eyes glazed over with the familiar salty water of pained tears. “My girlfriend.”  
“You have a girlfriend?” Samantha knew nothing of this woman other than what she’d just heard.   
“Not anymore..” A tear slipped over his pale cheek and Samantha bought her free hand up, wiping it away with her thumb. “She died in a car accident three years ago. I was driving..” Michael took in a breath, calming himself and forcing himself to continue after. “We were blindsided by a truck at a red light. Our five month old daughter was in the back of the car. She died instantly, the doctors said she didn’t suffer, but she died, ya know? How is that not suffering.” 

By this time, Samantha had tears of her own rolling down her cheeks. Her hand squeezed Michael’s comfortingly and reassuringly, hoping he’ll continue talking. The story may have been traumatic and saddening, but this was improvement, and all part of the process for Michael. 

“Chloe was in the ICU for five days before she passed away and all I suffered was a broken wrist and a few cuts and bruises. Can you believe it? I lose the two most precious humans to me, and I’m perfectly fine? It’s a fucking joke.”  
“You blocked the pain out with the drugs, didn’t you?” Samantha questioned.   
“I was given them for my wrist.” Michael nodded, still avoiding her gaze. “And I just carried on taking them. For the most part, they blocked out everything around me, they often made me black out which, honestly, was a blessing. My doctor, however, decided I wasn’t allowed to have them on prescription anymore, and as I was back to work, I knew I could swipe them from the hospital.”  
“I can’t believe you’ve been doing that for this long.. And no one knew?”  
“About Chloe and BB?”  
“About all of it..”  
“Benny knows. And the doctors that treated Chloe until she died. Only two other know.”  
“Who?”  
“Well you.” Michael finally looked at Samantha, she smiled and nodded at him comfortingly, allowing him to continue. “The other person isn’t important anymore. They were an intern at the hospital, and they were placed under my guidance. They decided that they’d dig into my life and found out what happened, so I..” Michael chewed on his lip for a moment, deciding whether or not to tell Samantha, before sighing. “I planted drugs in their locker and got them fired.”  
“Michael..”  
“I know. I was stupid. Fuck, I know that now.” Michael leaned back against the tree, huffing. “This damn place is a fucking nightmare, Sammy. I hate it here.”  
“I know, but I also know that you need to be here. You can do this.”  
“You know what I hate the most?” Michael didn’t give Samantha a chance to answer and continued. “It makes you think. All. The. Damn. Time. There’s something sickening about that. Hell, I don’t want to think about the day that I should’ve died instead of two innocent people. I don’t want to think about the hole that’s been left in my heart because my child was ripped away from me. No parent should have to bury their child, Sammy.”  
“No..they shouldn’t.” It was Samantha’s turn to look away, barely keeping it together as she thought about the day she buried her son a week after giving birth to his lifeless body.  
“I’m sorry..I’ve upset you.” Michael sighed. “You can go if you want. I won’t blame you.”  
“No..” Samantha looked back at him and wiped her eyes. “I’m not going until visiting hours are over. You didn’t upset me, you just made me think, that’s all.”  
“About?” Michael tilted his head questioningly.   
“You don’t need my problems piled onto all this, Michael.” She shook her head, smiling as best she could.   
“Please, Sammy. Share. It’ll make me feel less like I’m alone in all this.”

Samantha looked at Michael for a few moments, reading his face, her eyes looking into his as she weighed up the pros and cons of revealing that she too, had lost a child. After deciding it would be okay, Samantha nodded, reaching into her back pocket and pulling out a torn around the edges and crumpled scan picture of a baby. She looked at it with one of the saddest looks Michael had ever seen before she showed it to him. He frowned in confusion. 

“That’s Austin.” Samantha spoke, answering Michael’s unspoken question. “A little over a year ago, I gave birth to a still born baby boy. Five days after that, I stood by his grave as we buried him. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through, so I know what it’s like, Michael. I know what it’s like to lose a child.”   
“I had no idea..” Michael couldn’t seem to find any words, the sadness he was going through was shared by this person who he’d been teaching in the hospital for weeks, yet he had no idea she felt the grief and loss of her own child.  
“I didn’t expect you too. And before you say you’re sorry, it’s okay. I’ve grieved for him and I’ve moved on. Yeah, I still miss him, every single day I miss him, but I’m coping. So I know you can too. It sucks losing a child and a loved one-”  
“You’ve lost a loved one?”  
“Not in that same way you have, but yeah. I lost my husband. Well, ex husband now. After the birth of Austin, Dean and I grew apart, we fought all the time, I’d drink constantly too block it out. Much like you did with the drugs, I suppose. We didn’t have time for each other anymore. I was so deeply in love with him, but after Austin..all that love faded away because he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, grieve. I felt so alone, trapped in this pit of alcoholism and depression, I knew I couldn‘t carry on like that, so I filed for a divorce. The difference between us, is that I can still see him, so I cannot imagine how hard that is on you, but think of me as proof, that no matter how hard things get, and lets face it-” Samantha reached up and cupped Michael’s cheek, smiling sadly as she gazed into his eyes. “Things are pretty hard for you right now, you can still come out the other side, strong, healthy and happy. Just promise me one thing, Michael..”  
“What..?”  
“Use your time in this place to grieve over Chloe and BB.”

Michael chewed his lip again, the skin beginning to chap and crack from the action and he nodded, leaning into the warm touch of Samantha’s hand. 

“I promise to try.”  
“That’s better than nothing.” Samantha’s lips curled into a happier smile, despite the tears in her eyes.   
“Thank you, Sammy.” Michael meant every word.  
“Don’t thank me. You’re my friend. You’re not alone in this, I’m here. I’ll be here as much as I can and as much as you allow me in. You just gotta hold on 'til the end of this.”

The pair fell silent, Michael glanced down at the scan picture, his eyes glazing over with emotion once again. Losing Chloe and BB broke him and grieving terrified him, like he was choosing to forget about them and move on with his life, but Samantha’s words made sense to him. He knew she was right, even more so now that he knew she’d lost the baby in the picture he was looking at. He knew he had to straighten up, focus on the positive, and get through all the hell withdrawals threw at him, no matter how hard. 

“Let’s go grab some lunch from the canteen.” Michael finally spoke, letting Samantha put the picture back safely in her pocket, watching as she reached to help him stand. He let her help, another new step for him, but it felt right.   
Letting his hand stay in Samantha’s hand also felt right, the comfort he gained from her was immense, and he welcomed it easily, much to his surprise. And to Samantha, the closeness was something she knew Michael needed subconsciously, and who was she to deny her friend of that.

And that’s what Michael had become. Her friend. Someone she felt the need to help, despite her own problems weighing heavy on her shoulders.


	10. Family Portrait

It had been two months since Samantha left her new friend in the capable hands of the staff at McCloskey Rehabilitation and Recovery Residential Centre. Leaving him there was hard, not because she’d miss him, or so she thought because a few days later, she missed him really badly, but because she saw the emotional state Michael was in when she watched him walk down the corridor.   
When she wasn’t at the centre, Samantha focused on her work. Without Michael as her teacher at the hospital, she found it a little harder than she thought she would, mainly due to Justin constantly questioning her about Michael whereabouts and Ellie acting like her usual self and annoying Samantha right to her bones. Michael always gave Ellie jobs to do when he noticed her getting on Samantha’s nerves, and Samantha really missed that little action, but she tried her best to ignore her and carry on treating her patients under the watchful eye of Benny as he filled in for Michael.

After a particularly long and tedious Monday day shift at Lyons Memorial hospital, Samantha dragged her tired body to bed as soon as she walked through the front door of her home. After changing into a tshirt and shorts, she curled up under the covers and let sleep re-energise her body.   
This, unfortunately, led to her sleeping through her alarm Tuesday morning. She woke around one in the afternoon, her phone vibrating so much that it fell off the nightstand, the sound of it hitting the floor made her groan and roll over, reaching her hand down and blindly feeling for the device. It rang a few more times in her hand when she finally found it, until she pressed answer and put it to her ear. 

“Hello?”  
“Hello, is this Miss Riggs?”  
“Yeah. I’m sorry, who is this?”  
“This is Doctor Paige from MRRRC. I’m calling on behalf of Michael.”  
“Is he okay?” Samantha sat up, suddenly worried.   
“He’s fine overall, he’s just a little concerned and upset right now. He wanted me to call to see why you haven’t come to see him yet today.”  
“What?” Samantha rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock on the nightstand, cussing when she saw the lateness of her awakening. “Dammit. Can you tell him I’m sorry and that I’m on my way? I’ll be about an hour.”  
“I’ll let him know. Thank you.” 

Samantha’s ear was met by the sound of a dial tone and she threw her phone onto the nightstand before rushing out of bed. Deciding she’d skip a shower and have one that evening, she quickly brushed her teeth and fixed her hair into a plait. After grabbing a yoghurt and breakfast biscuit from the kitchen, she picked up her keys and turned to leave the house.   
Yelping as she opened the door, Samantha covered her mouth in surprise and stepped back, looking at the two people standing on the doorstep. 

“Dean? What are you two doing here?”  
“Sambo, I told you I’d be dropping her off today. What’s wrong with you?”  
“I just forgot. I’ve been working near on twenty-four seven.” She sighed. “Thanks for bringing her over, but I can’t take her right now. I’ve got somewhere really important to be. Can you come back in a few hours?”  
“I’m sorry, Sambo, but no. I’ve got work in an hour. I’m sorry. Take her with you.” Dean let the young girls hand go and watched as she skipped into Samantha’s house with a smile. “I’ll pick her up Thursday evening.”  
“Alright.” Samantha nodded. “I’m sorry I forgot.”  
“It’s okay. Stop working yourself too hard. Enjoy your next few days off.”  
“Yeah. I will. Thanks.” Samantha kissed Dean’s cheek and watched him walk back to his car and drive away. She sighed and turned, looking at the young girl.   
“C’mon. We’ve gotta go see someone special.”

x.x.x.x.x

Michael chewed his thumbnail nervously as he sat waiting on a bench in the picnic area of the rehab centre grounds. When time was passing that morning, he was becoming more and more sure that Samantha wasn’t going to visit him today, and that sent anxiety rushing through him. He hated how he’d come to rely on her so much but he couldn’t help it. Samantha hadn’t missed a single visiting day, and now she was late, Michael was going out of his mind.   
Despite the fact Doctor Paige had reassured him that Samantha was on her way, the anxiety had seemed to set in and didn’t dissipate. He watched the other residents with their families and jealousy weaselled it’s way into his being and made anger boil in his blood. Samantha needed to arrive. He needed her. And he knew it.   
The anger Michael was feeling, however, did soon disappear when he saw Samantha’s familiar face, but confusion was soon added to the mix of emotions when his eyes fell on the small child clutching Samantha’s hand. He waved them over, however and waited for them to sit before pushing a wrapped sandwich towards Samantha. 

“What’s this?” She asked, tilting her head.   
“Lunch. Doctor Paige told me you had overslept, so I saved the last prawn mayonnaise sandwich from the canteen for you. I figured you would skip breakfast..”  
“I intended to eat a yoghurt and a biscuit but I was given other ideas..” Samantha smiled down at the child then at Michael. “So thanks, I really appreciate it.”   
“You’re welcome.” Michael smiled proudly, like a child who had just been praised for doing well at school.   
“Mommy..can I go and play in the sandpit?” The small child yanked on Samantha’s arm, grabbing her and Michael’s attention.   
“Of course you can, baby. Just stay where I can see you though, okay?” Samantha smiled at the now nodding child and tucked her hair behind her ear before allowing her to make her way to the sandpit in the small play area specially made for visiting families.   
“Mommy?” Michael repeated. “She’s..she’s your kid?”  
“Yeah.” Samantha nodded, opening the wrapping on the sandwich and taking a bite, satiated the hunger growling in her stomach. “My ex husband and I had her four years ago.”  
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a daughter?” Michael questioned, watching Samantha pull the crusts off her sandwich just like she did every time they had lunch together.   
“It never came up. You never asked and I didn’t want to lay it on you especially after our chats about Chloe and BB.”  
“Oh..” Michael nodded. “What’s her name?”  
“Skye.” Samantha glanced over at her daughter, checking she was okay before smiling back at her friend opposite her. “Skye Jo-Ellen Winchester.”   
“That’s a nice name.”  
“Thanks.” 

After a few moments of silence, Michael sighed, resting his arms stretched out on the table. He glanced over at Skye, watching her building a sandcastle, her tongue poked out in pure concentration, much like Samantha’s did when she focused on putting an intravenous drip into the arm of one of her patients, and he found himself smiling, the likeness to his friend was uncanny. 

“You hate that I didn’t tell you, don’t you?” Samantha’s voiced echoed in Michael’s ears, the word hate bringing him from his thoughts.   
“No.” Michael shook his head, looking at Samantha with a soft expression. “Of course not. I was just surprised. When we spoke about Austin, I assumed he was your only child.”  
“Skye doesn’t live with me, so people often assume I don’t have children. It’s an honest mistake, I don’t blame you.” Not a second after Samantha finished her sentence, she stood immediately at the sound of Skye crying loudly. Without a word she rushed over to her. Michael watched, not sure what to do, and stayed sitting on the bench. A few minutes later, Samantha bought her sobbing child back to the table.   
“Is she okay?” Michael asked, obvious concern in his voice made Samantha smile slightly.   
“She’s fine. She just fell out of the sandpit and grazed her knee. Nothing a little magic cream didn’t fix.” Samantha grinned, sliding a little tube of antiseptic cream back into her pocket.   
“It hurts.” Skye sniffled, snuggling close to Samantha’s side. Michael smiled sadly.   
“Maybe I can go get something that’ll make you feel better? Huh? Would you like that?” He asked, watching Skye nod. 

Michael stood from the bench and walked to the first aid office, where he spoke to the nurse and retrieved a small plaster that had dinosaurs printed on it and a small green lollipop. He carried the items back to the picnic table and crouched in front of Skye. 

“Okay, miss, show me where you hurt. Doctor Michael is on the case.” He smiled, glancing up at Samantha. Skye also looked up at her mum, silently asking her for reassurance that Michael would help. Samantha nodded, letting her go. 

“It’s okay, baby. Go ahead.”  
“Here.” Skye pointed at her knee, the graze barely leaking blood but still looking sore.  
“Alright.” After Michael slipped the plaster into Samantha’s hand without Skye seeing, he inspected the wound and smiled. “Doctor Mommy, we’re going to need one dinosaur plaster, stat.”   
“Okay, doctor.” Samantha chuckled, handing the plaster back to him. Skye watched in amazement as Michael gently placed the plaster over the wound, smiling a toothy grin at her mother when he finished.  
“The patient is going to make it.  
“Good job doctor.” Samantha smiled. “How about giving Michael a high five, Skye?” Michael held his hand up to receive the high five, only to have Skye launch herself at him, her small arms wrapping tightly around his neck. At first, he froze, a little shocked, but after a few quick moments, he hugged the child back, smiling to himself.   
“Thank you, Michael.” Skye giggled.   
“You’re welcome. Now, what noises do dinosaurs make?” Skye grinned and held her hands up as she roared playfully, mimicking the sound of dinosaurs she’d seen on TV. “Very good! You must like dinosaurs a lot to know what they sound like.”  
“Dinosaurs are in my room at mommy’s house.”  
“Wow! That’s awesome. So you must know what they like to eat, huh?”  
“Veggies!” Skye clapped her hands.   
“Yes. They like vegetables, but they also like something special. Something they have when they get hurt.” Michael watched as Skye tilted her head in confusion. “They like to eat lollipops.” He ‘magically’ produced the lollipop from behind her ear and smiled fondly when she gasped and took it from him.   
“What do you say, Skye?”  
“Thank you, Michael.”

Michael stood and ruffled Skye’s hair before moving to take a seat back on his side of the table. Samantha watched him for the longest time, her eyes looking into his and her expression soft. 

“Thank you.” She nodded.

Michael smiled, nodding and looking down at his hands. He felt pride and a little embarrassment swell his heart. Amongst these emotions, though, he felt love. A feeling that he hadn’t felt for anyone since the car accident. And it scared him. He was letting himself get close to Samantha, and now she revealed she’s got a child, Michael only felt more for his former co-worker. The love and fondness for the pair made him fearful that now his heart was opening up to them, something bad would happen, and he couldn’t shake the feeling, no matter how hard he tried.


	11. Home

After seeing how well Michael treated Skye, and how much he seemed to care about her, Samantha was confident that he was on the right road to recovery. It had been rough on Michael, but his twelve week programme was almost at and end, and the pride Samantha felt for her boss was indescribable.   
Things at work were also going well too, Benny was a surprisingly good teacher and Samantha had learnt a lot being under his guidance and had become an extremely confident intern, which meant her residency was fast approaching, meaning she’d be a lot less under the wing of an attending and able to treat patients without someone constantly looking over her shoulder, not to mention a pay rise. The only downside she could see were the extra hours, something she was dreading as she had become accustomed to sleeping until noon every other weekend. 

Michael was due to come home in two days time, a Saturday which had nicely fallen on one of Samantha’s precious weekends off. Despite knowing she couldn’t sleep in that day, she honestly didn’t care. Her friend was coming home and he’d ‘kicked addictions ass’, a phrase Samantha used at the end of every visit to see Michael.   
On her way to the rehab centre, Samantha made a mental note to stop by Michael’s house and clean it from top to bottom in between shifts at the hospital, just so she knew Michael had something nice to come home too. 

After hugging her friend hello, Samantha sat on one of the beanbags in the rec-room, Michael relaxed into the one next to her and smiled a smile that confirmed Samantha’s suspicions that rehab had indeed helped him. 

“So how are you feeling?” Samantha questioned before sipping on her cup of coffee the staff had provided that morning.   
“Pretty good. I actually got a good nights sleep last night. It’s done wonders on my body.”  
“That’s awesome.”  
“I know.” Michael nodded, “What about you? How’s work treating you?”  
“Work is fine. Benny had forwarded my residency.”   
“Really?”  
“Yeah. I finish my internship in three months.”  
“Congratulations. You’ll be a fully fledged doctor.” Michael laughed.   
“Not quite. I’m staying on to become an attending, remember?” She matched his laugh. “Then I’ll be as obnoxious as you are.” She teased.   
“Well, I am offended.” Michael fake gasped. As soon as their laughter died down, he cleared his throat and smiled at her. “I mean it though. Congrats. You deserve it after all the hard work you’ve done recently.”  
“Thanks, Michael.”  
“Just..make up the time you’ve lost coming to see me.”  
“I already have. I do an extra four hours every shift that falls on visiting days. Benny knows that I come here and he understands. He was surprised that I wanted to do extra hours, I guess that helped him make his decision to push forward my residency.”  
“You’re not pushing yourself too much are you?”  
“Will it matter? This is my last visit.”  
“It matters to me.” Michael’s expression softened.   
“I’m not pushing myself, Michael. Please don’t take it upon yourself to worry about me.”  
“You’re still technically my student, Sammy. Of course I worry.”  
“I know.” Samantha fought off the urge to remind Michael that he didn’t worry about her when he was working at the hospital with her. “Are you excited to come home on Saturday?”  
“More nervous than excited.” Michael shrugged. “The drugs blocked out the loneliness I felt in that house.”  
“It’s gonna take time to adjust, Michael, but I think you’ve proved to yourself that you’re more than capable of doing so. And I’m always on the other end of the phone. You’re not alone in this. Not anymore.”

Michael didn’t say anything in return, just let his hand slip into Samantha’s, locking his fingers with hers, seeking the comfort only she managed to give him. Samantha looked down at their hands and found herself smiling. Her intentions were never to make this more than a friendship between them, but little things like hand holding, and the kiss Michael presses to her forehead before she leaves him at the end of each visiting day, make her think that maybe a relationship wouldn’t be the worst thing to come from this whole ordeal. 

x-x-x-x-x

Michael sat in the office at McCloskey Rehabilitation and Recovery Residential Centre once again. Except, unlike the first time where he was a shaking, emotional mess, he was more than happy to be there. It was Saturday. One of the best days of Michael’s existence. 

“Well, Michael, it’s been a long road but you have made amazing progress. I think I can speak on behalf of the staff when I say we are proud of you.”  
“Thank you.” Michael smiled proudly.   
“What are your plans for the next few months?”  
“I hoping to go back to work at the hospital, but maybe head up to New Jersey to see my folks, you know, patch things up there now I have a more positive outlook on life.”  
“That sounds like a good idea.” The doctor handed Michael a plastic wallet containing his therapy details and coping techniques. “Don’t threat to give us a call if you feel as if you cant cope. Just because your programme here has ended, it doesn’t mean our help has ended too. And I’m sure you’ll make sure to see your therapist every week for the next two months.”  
“I will.” Michael nodded.  
“Well,” The doctor stood and held out his hand, Michael smiled and stood, shaking his hand gratefully, happy that this was it. “I hope you have a fantastic time up in New Jersey if you do decide to go. You have a very bright outlook for the future, make the most of it.”   
“Thank you. Seriously.”

Michael left the office and collected his bag, slinging it onto his shoulder as he walked down the corridor, if he didn’t know better, he’d say he had a spring in his step. As soon as the doors to the front entrance slid open, he was met by the sight of Samantha, sitting comfortably on the hood of her car, aviator sunglasses perched on her face and a broad smile tugging at her lips. He smiled widely at her and jogged down the steps, making his way to the vehicle and dropping his bag on the floor by it so he could wrap his arms around her in a tight hug, pulling her off the hood twirling around with her. 

“God, it’s so good to be out of there.” his voice was muffled by Samantha’s neck and he breathed in her familiar apple and coffee scent.   
“If you think this is good, wait til you get home.” Samantha laughed, looking up at Michael after he set her down on the ground.   
“What have you done?” he tilted his head questioningly, a curious smile on his face.   
“Nothing too dramatic. You’ll see.” She took his bag and threw it onto the backseat of her car before getting in and starting it. Michael slid into the passengers seat and sighed happily. 

The ride to Michael’s didn’t take all that long, Samantha stopped by the Chinese takeaway to pick up some food, Michael had convinced her that getting alcohol wasn’t something they should do just yet as booze always made Michael’s emotional state worse, and even though Samantha made sure he knew she’d be there for him, she agreed and together they bought a couple bottles of soda. 

When they pulled up outside the door, Michael sighed with relief and got out of the car. Samantha threw him his door keys and grabbed his bag, smiling widely at him. Hesitantly, Michael slid the key into the lock and opened the door, his senses were hit by the smell of fresh flowers and a hint of cleaning chemicals as he walked inside. He looked around, to his surprise, everything was clean, in fact, his house had never looked so good. Samantha watched him look around, as if it was his first time being in the house. She smiled as he turned to her. 

“You did all this..?” He asked.   
“Yeah..I just thought it would be nice for you to come home to a clean place. A couple of the lights in the kitchen had blown so I changed them too. You’ve got fresh sheets on your bed, there’s a new air freshener in the hallway and bathroom. It’s one of those things that go off every hour. Uhm..” Samantha paused to think. “Oh. I restocked your fridge and freezer this morning, so you wont need to worry about grocery shopping for a couple of days. I did rearrange the living room though, I hope you don’t mind, but there was a glare on the TV from the window and I assumed it would eventually bug you. If you wanna change it back you can.” She shrugged and looked at Michael, noticing how he was smiling fondly at her. “What?”  
“Thank you.” Michael leaned in and kissed her softly, it was only for a couple of seconds but it made both him and Samantha feel at ease. “Thank you, Sammy. You didn’t have to do all this.”  
“I know..but I wanted too. That’s what friends do.” A blush grew on her cheeks and she cleared her throat. “Alright. Let’s eat.”

Michael sat at the kitchen table and watched Samantha dish up the Chinese food, he was so used to eating it straight from the container in front of the television alone while he binged on drugs that this was a little new to him, but newness was something he now welcomed. Rehab had made him realise that not only was he using drugs to block out the heartbreak he’d felt losing his child and girlfriend but he was using them to block out anyone else trying to pry into his life, or get close to him, and now he’d realised that, he honestly didn’t know why he wouldn’t allow Samantha into his life before. She’d helped him and dedicated more of her time to him than anyone had ever cared too before. 

So, I was thinking, maybe we can watch a few movies tonight..ya know, if you want?” Michael asked, looking across the table at Samantha once she was seated.   
“I’d love to, Michael, but I’ve got Skye tonight. I know I said I’d stay tonight but this was last minute..I’m sorry.”  
“Hey, no. No, it’s okay. You’re a mom, Skye comes first.” Michael forced a smile and picked at the food on his plate. He wasn’t upset that Samantha couldn’t stay, no, he was nervous about being alone. This would be the first night in twelve weeks that he’d be truly on his own, and he was scared of his demons.   
“Are you sure?” Samantha tilted her head and put her fork down so she could reach across the table and rest her hand on his, which turned over so their fingers could intertwine. “Michael if something is bothering you, please tell me..”  
“I’m fine, Sammy. Honestly. You’ve done so much for me already, I can’t always expect you to be here twenty-four seven. It’s okay. I’m okay.” 

Samantha nodded, she was still unsure if Michael was telling the truth, but she trusted her friend, so she had no reason to doubt him completely. Her intentions were to stay over that night, sleep on his couch, just to make sure he’d settle in at home okay, and it did bum her out that she couldn’t do that, but Michael was right, she was a mom, her daughter’s needs came first, they always had.

When the pair had finished eating, Samantha washed up the dishes, despite Michael constantly telling her that she didn’t need to do so, and set the washing machine on it’s first cycle once Michael had unpacked his bag. She even cleaned the kitchen again, just for good measure. When it came to the time when Samantha had to make a move back to her house, Michael was a little reluctant to let her go, hugging her tightly for a few longs moments, his head nuzzled in her neck for comfort. 

“I’ll have my cell on the entire night, okay? Call me, even if it’s like three in the morning, if you need me, I’ll answer. Okay?” Samantha rubbed Michael’s back with a smile.   
“Okay.” Michael sniffed, eventually letting Samantha out of his grip. “Say hi to Skye for me?”  
“Sure.” She pecked his lips quickly and turned to open the door. “Get some rest. I’ll stop by tomorrow afternoon on my way to work.”   
“Thank you.” Michael nodded, swallowing his nerves away and smiling at her as he watched her jog down the steps and towards her car. He returned her wave before she drove away and sighed as he closed the door, looking into his now empty and lonely house. 

‘You can do this.’ he thought to himself as he took a deep breath, heading into the living room for a night of movies in front of the television, this time unaided by the haze of narcotics. 

x-x-x-x-x

“Mommy, wake up.” Samantha groaned and opened her eyes at the sound of her daughter trying to rouse her from her slumber. “Mommy someone is at the door.”  
“Huh?” she yawned and glanced up at the clock on the bedside table, the numbers flashed 1:34am.   
“Mommy someone is at the door.” Skye repeated, pulling on Samantha’s hand.   
“Okay..okay. Let’s go see who it is at this rather unconventional time in the night.” Samantha stood from her bed and lifted Skye into her arms before making her way to the front door where, before opening it up, she checked through the peephole, frowning at the sight of Michael. She opened the door and looked at him, Skye cuddled close to Samantha. 

“I..I’m sorry. I know it’s late..but I can’t be in that house on my own. Not yet. I didn’t know if I should come here but I kinda just drove and this is where I turned up..” Michael stumbled over his words, making Samantha frown more. “I haven’t taken anything this time, I promise..”  
“I know.” She stepped aside and let him come inside. “You’re having an anxiety attack, I can tell the difference.” Michael nodded in response. “Go sit down in the living room. I’ll get you a glass of water. Try taking some deep breaths.” She squeezed his shoulder before heading into the kitchen.  
“Can I hold the glass mommy?” Skye smiled.   
“Of course.” 

Samantha walked back into the living room with Skye still in her arms, Skye stuck her tongue out in concentration, trying her best not to spill the water as she handed it to Michael, the snuggled back against Samantha. 

“Thank you, Skye.” Michael sipped at his water and looked away from them nervously. “I’m sorry for turning up here, Sammy.”  
“Hey. No. Shh. It’s okay.” Samantha crouched, resting Skye on her knee. “Skye, you remember Michael?” Skye nodded. “Well, he’s a little upset, so mommy’s gonna let him stay tonight, okay?”  
“He’ll be here when I wake up?”  
“That’s right.” Samantha smiled. “C’mon, let’s get you back into bed. Say goodnight to Michael.”  
“Ni’night Mikey.” Skye waved at him before Samantha took her back to her room and tucked her into her bed. “Is Mikey gonna be okay?” she questioned, snuggling close to her teddy bear.   
“Yeah. He will. He just needs to be around a friend right now.”  
“I’m his friend.”  
“Yeah you are. Which is why he needs to be here. So he can be with us.”  
“Okay, mommy.”  
“Goodnight sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning.” she leant down and kissed Skye’s forehead then left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her and making her way back to Michael after gathering some bedding so she could make up the couch for him.   
“I really am sorry for turning up here. I didn’t mean to wake Skye..” Michael stood, nervously picking at his nails.   
“Hey, I already said it was okay, Michael. Sit down..please.” Michael nodded and sat, Samantha settled beside him on the couch. “What’s going on with you?”  
“I don’t know..I tried to settle after you left. I really did. But it just kept getting stronger.”  
“What did?”  
“Panic. Fear.” Michael shook his head, avoiding Samantha’s gaze. “God I feel so stupid.”  
“Look at me, Michael.” Samantha rested her hand on his leg, stroking his thigh with her thumb. “Look at me..” Michael looked up at her, his eyes were watering and he was chewing on his lower lip, so much that it had began to bleed. “It’s okay. It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to panic and it’s more than okay to turn up here. I said I’m here for you, I meant that.”  
“Thank you.” Michael blew out a breath and sniffed, wiping at his eyes.  
“Stay here for a few days.”  
“What?”  
“Just until you adjust to being out of rehab.”  
“No..Sammy I can’t impose on you like that.”  
“It’s no imposition. Really. I’d be happy to have you here. I mean, my own person chef, anyone would kill to have one of those.” She teased, trying to make Michael feel at ease, to try and calm him down, even if it were only a little. Michael chuckled a little through his tears and nodded.   
“Thank you, Sammy.”  
“It’s okay but please stop thanking me.” She smiled and kissed his forehead. “You gonna be okay on the couch?”  
“Yeah. I’ll be fine.” Michael was about to thank her but stopped himself, so he stole a kiss instead.   
“Get some sleep, honey.” Samantha smiled, before standing and going back to her room. 

Michael settled down on the couch and sighed, pulling the blankets over himself. He already felt calmer, not by a lot but enough so he could finally get some rest.


	12. House of Gold

The sound of an alarm woke Michael up with a fright, his chest heaved as he sat bolt upright, his eyes darting from side to side, trying to gain some information of his whereabouts. Panic rose from the pits of his stomach. 

“Sorry, sorry. I always do this.” Samantha's voice came soft from the hallway where she was frantically waving a dish cloth under the screeching smoke detector. “It's so sensitive, the tiniest waft of smoke will set it off.” 

Michael smiled to himself as soon as he heard her voice, the panic seemingly drifting away. He mumbled an “it's okay” and stretched his limbs out, yawning. A chuckle rose from his chest when he heard Samantha cussing over the beeping of the alarm. 

“Why can't I be taller?!” Samantha groaned, standing on her tiptoes and trying desperately to press the little red 'stop' button.   
“Here.” Michael was in the hallway by this time, he reached up and easily stopped the screeching.  
“Thank you.” Samantha smiled, sighing with relief. “I normally use the broom handle but I can't find it.”   
“Your height is cute.” Michael commented. Samantha blushed and cleared her throat, something that had become a regular occurrence recently, before frowning when Skye's crying pierced though the air.   
“It's okay, princess. Mommy's here.” Samantha rushed back into the kitchen and picked Skye up. “She doesn't like the fire alarm.” She explained. Michael nodding in understanding.   
“It is loud.” He smiled softly at Skye. “I'm not a fan of it either.” Skye sniffled, looking up at Michael from her mothers arms.   
“It's scary.” She mumbled sadly.   
“Well, I agree, but it's nothing to be scared of really. It just lets you know if there is a fire so you and your mommy can get out of the house safely.”  
“Was there a fire mommy?” Skye's head tilted in confusion.  
“No, darling. I just burnt the toast, that's all.” Samantha soothed her daughter before placing her back on a chair.   
“Do you need a hand?” Michael asked.  
“No, no it's almost done. Help yourself to coffee or juice.” 

Michael shrugged and walked over to the counter that had the coffee pot sitting on it. He bit his lip, looking at the cupboards above the contraption, trying to decide which one might have a mug in. Samantha noticed his decision making and smiled, nudging him playfully with her hip as she set down a coffee cup in front of him. He smiled gratefully, pouring the dark liquid into the mug and reaching for milk and sugar. 

Soon, they were sitting at the table, happily eating breakfast. Skye was busy mashing up a banana in a bowl with her hands, eating it from her fingers and making sounds of appreciation. Michael watched her with a fond smile. 

“How'd you sleep?” Samantha asked, passing him syrup for the pancakes.   
“Really well, actually. Your couch is much more comfier than mine.” His gaze fell on Samantha, the smile still on his face.   
“I'm glad.” She nodded, looking at him. “You're welcome to stay as long a you need. Until you feel okay to be at home alone.”  
“I don't think I'll ever be okay with that.” he sighed. “I don't cope in the same way as I did before. It was easier back then, you know?”  
“I disagree. I think it was harder for you back then. You took the drugs to cloud your mind and you had you no coping techniques. But you do now. You're clean from the stuff that made you insane.”  
“You really think that?”  
“Yeah. I do. I also think that now you know you don't need them, your mind will remain clear, you'll be able to focus on the more important things. Like a job, your friends. Reconnecting with the people that mean the most to you.”  
I don't have many of those people any more, Sammy. And as for a job... I don't think I should go back to the hospital.”   
“You sound like you've given that some thought.”  
“I have. In rehab, my therapist and I spoke at length about what would be good for me. Working around those drugs, the people we get in the ER too... It's not the right environment for me. Benny wouldn't have me back at Lyons anyway, so I'd have to relocate. Instead-” Michael took a deep breath. “I'm gonna look for something different. Maybe a teacher or something like that.”  
“You might not be able to go into teaching... They do a record check.”  
“Oh... yeah.” Michael sighed.   
“How about you just take a couple months to figure out what you want to do. You can stay here until you do so you don't need to worry about rent. I earn enough to fund your living expenses too. It wouldn't be a problem.”  
“Sammy... I really appreciate it, but if I stay here that long, I'll never get used to being alone. I can't just abandon my house.”  
“Okay. Okay.” Samantha thought for a moment. “How about you split up the week. Say you spend Monday, Wednesday and Friday at your place, then Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday here. Sundays can be sorted on the day.”  
“Sammy...” Michael smiled. “You don't have to do this.”  
“But I want too...”  
“Mikey stay here.” Skye practically sang. Michael looked at her, chewing his lip as he looked back at Samantha.  
“Are you sure about this?”  
“More than anything.”  
“Then that sounds like a good plan. I promise I will look for a job everyday until I get one.”  
“Take your time, Michael. Finding a new job is a big step without everything you've been through added on top.” Michael nodded in agreement, chewing on a piece of bacon. Samantha smiled widely. “Besides, Skye seems to like you, so at least I know I'll have a reliable babysitter.”   
“I'll do anything I can to help out.” Michael smiled.   
“Only if you feel up to it. You'll have a free afternoon today. I'm taking her back to her fathers before work.”  
“I can look after her if that's easier. Her dad can pick her up from here instead of you rushing around?”  
“I'll text him.” Samantha smiled. “Would you like to spend some of the day with Michael, princess?”  
“Yeah!” Skye nodded enthusiastically.   
“Alright. Then I'll text you dad and tell him to pick you up from here.”

x-x-x-x-x

It had been two hours since Samantha left for work, leaving Michael and Skye watching The Lion King with a big bowl of popcorn between them. Michael was feeling extremely positive about things, it made him a little uneasy but he tried to ignore that feeling, focusing on looking after Samantha's daughter, so he could prove to her, and to himself, that he was on the right page of his life. The film ended just in time for Dean, Skye's dad, to arrive and collect his daughter. Michael had packed up her things that she wanted to take with her and got her dressed in her coat. The knock on the door startled him a little and he took a breathe before opening it. He smiled at Dean, but didn't get one in return, which unsettled him. 

“You must be Michael.” Dean said flatly, allowing himself to walk into the house. Michael stepped aside, unsure if Samantha allowed him inside but unable to question it.   
“Yeah. That's me. And you're Dean. Nice to meet you.”  
“Mhm.” Dean grunted. “C'mom, baby girl. We best get going.” Skye hugged Michael's leg, causing Dean to frown.   
“See you on Saturday Mikey!” Skye giggled, toddling out the door.  
“Go sit in the car with Auntie Lex, princess, I'll be there in a minute.” Dean shut the front door, keeping himself on the inside.   
“Uh... Is something wrong?”  
“Uh, yeah.” Dean sighed, shaking his head. “You know, I heard my ex wife was shaking up with the druggie from the hospital. But I didn't believe it, ya know? I thought Sambo was better than that. I mean, she's never even smoked weed. I thought she'd never want a washed up drug addict. But apparently I was wrong.”  
“Hey... You don't even know me. You can't pass judgement, Dean.”  
“Oh, I can. And I will. What gives you the right to think you can be around my daughter? Just because you're fucking my wife, doesn't mean you can weasel your way into Skye's life.”  
“Ex wife...”  
“Whatever! You're messed up. You're disgusting. I don't want my daughter anywhere near you.”  
“I'm clean. I have been for twelve weeks now... I wouldn't let myself be around children if I wasn't. I wouldn't even let myself be around Samantha. I care about her.”  
“Oh I bet you do.”  
“Yeah, actually. I do.” Michael's confidence boosted suddenly and instead of looking at the floor like a child being told of for doing something bad, he puffed out his chest and stared Dean down. “Sammy has helped me out more than anyone else ever had. She got me into rehab. She saved my life. And I know full fucking well that she'd never let me be here, around her daughter, if I was still getting high. So how about you back off. You don't know me, you don't know what I've been through, all you have heard is rumours from people who also don't know me.”  
“You can't talk to me that way.”  
“I think you'll find I just did. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got my dinner in the oven and I think it's almost ready.” Michael steered the stunned Dean out of the front door. “I'll see you when you bring Skye back on Saturday.” Michael shut the door, sliding the latch so it locked. He rested his head against it for a few moment, catching his breath before anxiety could take over. “Jesus.” He muttered to himself, walking into the kitchen to retrieve his dinner from the stove. 

After serving up the food, Michael sat on the sofa with a tray on his lap, the steaming food on on the tray, and he flicked on the TV. His mind kept trying to back track to the altercation with Dean, but he used the techniques he learned in rehab to focus his thoughts. It would be another eight hour before Samantha would be back from work and he didn't want to lose his mind and end up huddled in the corner and having difficulty breathing because he thought he was weak, so he watched movies. Old black and white horror movies. Something he was surprised Samantha had Tivo'd. And he waited patiently for either sleep, or Samantha to walk through the door.


	13. Stressed Out

Samantha was on call when Dean and Skye came into her wing of the hospital. She checked off a few things on a patients clipboard and made her way over to them, sighing. 

“Dean, what the hell?” Samantha checked Skye over, worrying that she might be hurt and that was the reason Dean had showed up with her.   
“Skye isn't hurt, Sambo.”   
“I know...I was just checking...” Samantha frowned at the nickname. There was a time when that nickname meant a lot to her but now it just bought back memories of bad times. “You can't bring her here unless she's sick, Dean.”  
“I can't take her tonight.” Dean replied flatly.  
“What? Why not? Tonight is your night.”  
“I know but I just can't take her. I'm too damn hacked off.” Samantha knew Dean wanted to cuss badly, so something must've been wrong. She sighed and lifted Skye into her arms, looking around for a nurse. She found Nurse Wilson and called her over. “Could you possibly do me a huge favour and look after Skye for a bit. Little family emergency.” Samantha sighed, pleading with the nurse.  
“Of course, doctor.” Nurse Wilson took Skye into the break room, leaving Samantha to talk to Dean without worrying about cussing. Samantha took him aside.   
“So why the hell can you not look after your own daughter tonight?”  
“Your current house guest is why I can't do it.”  
“Michael? What's he got to do with it?”  
“He pissed me off. Dammit, Sambo. Why the fuck would you let a druggie stay in your house with our baby girl?”  
“Firstly, calm down, this is a hospital and there are sick people here. Secondly, Michael isn't a druggie. He's an ex addict. Okay? He's been to rehab, he's clean. I wouldn't have him there if he was a risk to Skye. You really think that little of me?”  
“Sambo, I-”  
“Stop calling me Sambo!” Samantha spat. “What is your problem really? Is it because you've made up this little scenario in your head that feeds your paranoia? Or maybe you're just jealous...huh? Is that it?”  
“I'm not jealous.” Dean scoffed. “I don't have to stand here and take this. I'll be over in the morning to pick up Skye and take her then. I'm too fucking mad right now.”  
“So I've gotta tell your daughter the reason her daddy doesn't want to look after her tonight is because he's mad?” Samantha pursed her lips and sighed, shaking her head. “Just go. Get out of here.”  
“See you tomorrow.”  
“Maybe.” Samantha turned on her heel and took a few deep breaths as she made her way to the break room. Dean may have been mad, but so was Samantha now. When she opened the door, she was met by the smiling face of Skye and the frowning gaze of Benny. She sighed and smiled apologetically.   
“I'm so sorry, Sir.” She offered. “My ex husband was supposed to take her tonight but he just showed up here and left her.”  
“Do you not have child care?” Benny asked, his voice taking an unusual tone.   
“Yeah. He was supposed to be the child care. I've got someone I can call to come collect her though.” Samantha reached into her scrub top pocket and pulled out her phone.   
“Who?”   
“Michael...” 

Benny sighed and pushed Skye's bag, and Samantha's belongings towards her, his face was expressionless and unreadable. 

“Just go home, Samantha. I'll have Justin cover your shift.”  
“Benny, I can work. Michael can be here within half hour.”  
“Don't argue with me, Samantha. You're lucky I don't write up a warning for this. You're expendable when it comes to this hospital. Patients come first.”  
“I know. And you can't deny that I'm a fucking good doctor.”  
“I can't, but having little interruptions like this-” Benny gestured to Skye who was now hiding behind her mothers legs, frowning at the chief of medicine. “Will only put the patients at risk. Your mind wont be fully on the job, which in all honesty, has been a worry of mine for a few weeks now.”  
“What are you saying?” Samantha questioned.   
“I'm saying that you're distracted. Possibly by Michael. Am I correct?”  
“No. No you're not. Michael hasn't affected my mind or life at this hospital. And you cannot suggest otherwise. I've still got all my patients. They're alive. Which is more than I can say about Mrs Hills. She was under your care. So don't tell me I'm distracted. I'm good at my job and my head is one hundred percent in it.” Samantha took a breath and sighed. “C'mon Skye, mommy's gonna take you home.”  
“A wise choice, Dr. Riggs. I wouldn't bother coming into work tomorrow. You're suspended without pay until further notice.” Benny stood from the table.   
“What?! Are you fucking kidding me?”  
“Don't push it, Samantha. I suggest you just go home now.”  
“You're ridiculous. You know that? Ever since Michael got caught up in a bad habit, you have held that over this hospital like a big black cloud, ready to rain down on anyone who steps out of line. It's fucking stupid.” Samantha watched Benny walk towards her, a smirk on his lips.  
“It's not over this hospital-” He whispered cruelly in her ear. “It's over you.” With that, Benny left the room.   
By this time, Samantha's eyes were beginning to water, she picked up Skye and their stuff, and quickly hurried out of the hospital.

“Mommy you said a bad word a lot.” Skye mumbled, clutching her security blanket tightly.  
“I know, sweetheart, I'm sorry. Mommy is just a little upset at the moment.”  
“Where's daddy?”  
“He's gone home, darling. But it's okay, because we're gonna go home and maybe you, me and Michael can watch a few of your favourite films before you go to bed, huh? Would you like that?” Samantha tried to keep herself together, for the sake of her daughter, but she wanted to break down, cry, scream. Her suspension wasn't justified, and that really irked her.  
“Yeah.” Skye nodded and cuddle close to her mother. “Don't be sad mommy.”

x-x-x-x-x

When Samantha walked through the door of her house, she let go of Skye's hand and hushed her into the living room. Michael was sitting on the couch, glancing at her with a look of confusion, the empty tray of food still sitting on the coffee table. 

“You're home early.” He frowned when Samantha gave him a look.   
“Skye, baby, why don't you go up to your room and get changed into your jammies. You can bring down Mr Ted to sit with you while I speak with Michael for a minute.” Samantha and Michael watched Skye excitedly skip up the stairs with her bag on her back and out of sight before Samantha gestured Michael to join her in the kitchen.   
“Sammy, what's wrong?”   
“I've been suspended from work.” She frowned, pouring herself a glass of pineapple juice from the fridge and dropping in a dissolvable painkiller to cure her growing headache.   
“You what?! On what grounds?”  
“Apparently Dean showing up and dropping off Skye at the hospital was the cherry on top of the huge crap of a cake that Benny likes to call 'expendable doctors'”  
“I'm not sure I follow...” Michael frowned. “Start from Dean showing up...”  
“He dropped Skye off. Something about him being too mad to look after her. Something he blamed you for.”  
“I...I did kinda have a go at him, Sammy. So it was my fault.”  
“I heard what happened, Michael. It wasn't your fault. It's Dean being his usual self. He's jealous. Even though he'd never admit it.”  
“Jealous of what?”  
“Us.” Samantha shrugged. “I asked a nurse to look after Skye while I had a word with Dean, apparently he's gonna have her tomorrow instead, and I was going to call you to come pick her up but Benny was already waiting in the break room ready to bust my ass about it. He's right, I am expendable. But he didn't need to be a dick about it.” Samantha drank the juice and rubbed her forehead, frowning deeply.  
“You're an amazing doctor, Sammy. Hell, you're far better than I ever was. Why did Benny suspend you?”  
“My head isn't in the game. Apparently the patients come first. Its like he thinks I don't know that.” She groaned and let her head droop, hiding her face from Michael, her frustrations spilling over in the form of tears.  
“Hey... it's okay. I know you know that. You know you know that.” Michael stepped forward and gently pushed her head up with two fingers under her chin. With his free hand he wiped away the tears on her cheeks and smiled softly. “Don't let him get to you, Sammy. You're good at your job, he shouldn't tell you otherwise.”  
“But he did... and now I can't do my job. Suspended without pay until further notice.” Samantha sighed, her head nudging against Michael's hand almost like a kitten does when you pet it.  
“I'm sorry, Sammy.” Michael whispered, closing the gap between them so he could hold Samantha in his arms, trying to comfort the female.   
“It's not your fault. I made my choices, and I'm happy with them. Dean is just jealous. And Benny... well, he's a complete asshole, so whatever.”

Michael smiled, he knew Samantha did care what they thought, he knew she cared about her job and he knew she was still angry over the current events unfolding, but he also knew that his smile drew a smile from her and that was worth it all. He leaned down a little, wanting to comfort her with kisses but Skye, along with her teddy, had other ideas as she toddled into the kitchen. 

“Mommy, Mr Ted wants ice cream.” Skye spoke, soft and innocently, not knowing that she just interrupted a moment.   
“Does he. Or do you?” Samantha smiled at Michael before moving away to look at her daughter.   
“I do!”   
“Alright. Go choose a movie and I'll bring some in to you.”

Skye yet again skipped away into the living room, practically throwing herself on the couch after she picked 'Up' from the stack of DVDs by the television. Samantha laughed and shook her head, fixing a bowl of ice cream for Skye and herself and Michael also. As she turned to take them into the living room, she stole a kiss from Michael. 

“Maybe being suspended won't be so bad after all.” She remarked, mentally noting how calm she felt in Michael's presence, and how having quality time with her daughter was something she missed sorely. Samantha was determined to make the most of her time off.


	14. Madness

The sound of the doorbell ringing echoed up the stairs waking Samantha from her slumber. She yawned and was about to open her eyes when she felt two strong arms pull her into the warmth of Michaels body. Samantha hummed softly, snuggling into his chest as his fingers stroked down her spine under her vest top. She would've got out of bed to answer the door but this moment was too damn comfortable and perfect. A few minutes of silence went by before her phone began buzzing across the nightstand. The name “Dean” flashing up on the screen.   
She sighed, groaning as she reached for the device, Michael's arms stayed around her in a sweet embrace, nothing sexual had happened the night before, only cuddling until they fell asleep together, they both decided it would be beneficial to take their relationship slowly. 

“Hello?” Samantha's croaky morning voice broke the silence, holding the phone to her ear with one hand, the other moving to lace fingers with Michael's.   
“Why the hell aren't you answering the door?!” Dean's angry voice rang through the receiver.   
“I'm in bed. It's like nine in the morning, Dean.” She sighed “I'll be down to let you inside in a minute.” She hung up the phone before she could get any sort of reply and snuggled back into the grip of Michael for a few moments.   
“You really have to let him in?”  
“He's here to pick up Skye, she deserves time with her dad even though he abandoned her yesterday.”  
“He didn't abandon her, Sammy. He wouldn't be here now if he did.”  
“Shut up. You know what I mean.” She huffed and pulled back her side of the covers so she could leave the bed and stood up, pulling on a pair of pyjama pants from the floor. “I'll get Skye sorted and ready to leave, you just stay here, okay? You need rest.”  
“Sammy I'm fine.”  
“Rest. I'll be back soon.”

Michael rolled his eyes at Samantha and snuggled back into the comfort of the bed, pulling the covers around him. Samantha smiled warmly and left the room, quickly making her way to the front door. She squinted in the early morning sun as the door creaked open, Dean soon stepped inside. 

“Is Skye ready?”  
“Dude..I'm not even ready, what do you think?” Samantha quipped.   
“Why the lay in? I thought you'd be up and ready for work by now.” Dean folded his arms, casting his gaze to Samantha's attire. “You got the day off?”  
“Something like that.” She grabbed a plastic beaker from the cupboard and filled it with some juice, she took a sip and sighed. “I'm suspended without pay until further notice.”  
“What? Why?”  
“Really? You have to ask?”  
“Well..yeah?” Dean's brows furrowed in confusion.  
“You really have no idea, do ya? My boss thinks my head isn't in the game because of my home life. Apparently my daughter being left at the hospital was the last straw.”  
“You sound like you're trying to pass the blame..”

Samantha stared at Dean for the longest time, her mouth open as if trying to get the words out but nothing passing her lips. She shook her head and made a stride to the door. 

“I'll get Skye ready.”  
“Wait..” Dean caught her wrist, stopping Samantha in her tracks. “This isn't my fault. If you hadn't have spent your time with -”  
“With Michael?” Samantha spoke over him, her voice was louder now as her frustration spilled over. “I helped Michael because that's my job. I help people. But Benny..he's been out to get Michael since he went into rehab and got clean. And you..you're acting as if you're jealous, Dean. Like if you can't have me then no one can. News flash, sweetheart, we're divorced. Or did you forget that little fact?” Samantha stopped and took a deep breath. “The time I've spent on Michael is my free time. He knows that. My attendance at work hasn't suffered one little bit. And Skye isn't being affected in any of this! I don't see why everyone is being a fucking bitch.” She turned to leave up the stairs but stopped, seeing Skye standing at the top.  
“Mommy why are you yelling? Are you sad again?” Her voice was so innocent, it almost broke Samantha's heart.  
“I'm fine, princess. Daddy is here. Do you think you can get yourself dressed and come down here for breakfast so he can take you today?”  
“yes mommy. Mr Ted can help.”  
“Atta girl. Mommy will come help you in a minute too.” Samantha smiled as Skye skipped back into her room before turning to Dean. “You don't get a say in who I help, who I spend my time with or what I do.” again, she didn't wait for an answer as she jogged up the stairs and into her room to help Skye. 

After packing an over night bag and placing Mr Ted in the front pocket of Skye's backpack, Samantha looked at Skye with a fond smile. 

“Princess, sit down for a minute.” Samantha sat on the bed and patted the spot next to her as she spoke. Skye sat down and looked up at her mother, her green eyes sparkling in the light.   
“What's wrong mommy?”  
“Nothing. I just want you too know that I'm not sad, so you don't need to worry okay? You're gonna have a good time with daddy today and tonight.” Skye nodded, still looking at Samantha.   
“Are you upset with daddy?”  
“No baby.”  
“But you yelled..” Skye tilted her head and pouted.   
“I got a little upset, but not at daddy, okay?” Samantha didn't like lying to her daughter, but she was innocent in all this, and if it stopped Skye from feeling upset then a little white lie wouldn't do any harm. She kissed Skye's forehead and stood up, gathering the small child in her arms. “Let's get you some breakfast then you can go, okay?” Skye nodded enthusiastically. 

Dean smiled warmly when Skye came into the kitchen, Samantha had only carried her down the stairs, and he scooped her up into his arms. 

“You ready, baby?” He asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.   
“She's gotta have breakfast, Dean.” Samantha spoke for Skye.  
“It's okay. I'll take her out for breakfast. How does chocolate pancakes sound?”  
“Yeah!” Skye cheered, grinning. Samantha sighed and nodded.  
“Alright. Well if she needs me, I'll have my phone on me. I'll see you tomorrow, baby girl.” Samantha kissed her head again and ruffled her hair.   
“Where's Michael? Wanna say goodbye.”  
“Uh..” Samantha looked at Dean then at Skye. “He's upstairs in bed. You'll see him tomorrow.”  
“Okay.” Skye huffed.   
“Have a good time.” Samantha smiled, looking at Dean. “I'll see you tomorrow afternoon.”  
“Enjoy your time off.” Dean rolled his eyes and carried Skye out the door and too his car. Samantha waited by the door to wave goodbye to her daughter and sighed, shutting it after. She grabbed the beaker of juice and took it upstairs, stepping out of her pyjama pants on the way. 

Michael was sat up in bed when Samantha walked into the room. He smiled softly at her as he watched her stumble due to the pyjama pants and chuckled when she gasped almost spilling her juice. She huffed and sat on the bed, putting the cup on the bedside table. 

“Are you okay?” Michael asked tentatively. “I heard yelling..”  
“Was I really yelling that loudly?” She sighed, slumping back into the pillows. “I think I might have been too harsh on him..”   
“You feel bad?”  
“Yeah.” She nodded, looking at him. By this time, Michael had slipped down into the bed so he was level with her as they spoke.   
“Text him later and apologise. But I think maybe he deserved it in a way?”  
“No. Yes. Oh, I don't know.” she hid her face in the pillow, Michael reached his hand out and stroked his fingers gently down her back, trying to soothe her. Her skin erupted in goosebumps under his touch.   
“Sammy, don't beat yourself up.”  
“Why is everyone being a dick?” Her voice was muffled by the pillow and it made Michael smile.  
“Because the world would be boring if everyone was nice.” An incoherent sound came from Samantha, again making Michael smile. He held her shoulders and moved her so she was now on her back, she looked up at him and pouted.   
“Why did you move me?”  
“Because..” Michael dipped his body, lightly laying on top of Samantha and kissed her softly, her lower lip between his in a comforting yet passionate pull. Samantha gasped lightly, her hands trailing up his muscular back. When the two broke for air, they were met by each other's blushing faces.   
“Well..that was..” Samantha cleared her throat, her cheeks burning.   
“Yeah..” Michael agreed, knowing what she was trying to say. “Sammy, stop worrying about what people think. Like you said last night, maybe being suspended wont be so bad. Benny will realise that Justin wont be able to cover every single one of your shifts. The nurses wont be able to pick up the slack and he'll come crawling back, begging for you to return. And as for Dean..he's your daughter's dad. The next time he makes any sort of comment, just rise above it. For Skye's sake. I know how much she means to you.” Michael pushed back Samantha's hair and smiled.   
“But they hate you..”  
“So let them hate me. They have a reason to, after all. I'm not bothered by it.”   
“It's not fair.” Samantha sighed, lifting her head to kiss Michael, finding a lot of comfort from the feel of his lips on hers. Michael felt that comfort too. This had been the first time he was physically intimate in anyway with another person since the accident, and as much as it scared him, it excited him and eased him all at the same time. 

x-x-x-x-x

Afternoon came quickly, Michael and Samantha had spent the rest of the morning in bed, watching movies and just being with each other. Around four o'clock, Samantha decided it was time to get some kind of dinner in the oven, and after an unsuccessful rummage through the freezer she decided that two TV dinners would have to do for them, as she desperately needed to go grocery shopping. Deciding to do that tomorrow, she put the dinners on the side ready to be microwaved and cleaned the kitchen worktops while Michael showered, already missing his company.   
Before she could finish that job, her phone buzzed across the work surface, Dean's name flashing up on the screen again.   
She answered it with a friendly but forced hello. 

“Sambo. Sambo something is wrong with Skye. We're at the hospital. You gotta come here. Quick.”  
“What?” Samantha was already getting her jacket on while Dean spoke.   
“Come to the hospital now.” 

The line went dead. Samantha threw her phone in her bag and called up the stairs. 

“Michael! Come here!” Samantha paced as she waited for him. Not even a minute went by before Michael was down the stairs, a confused look on his face and a tshirt around his neck but not over his body. He looked at her, Samantha's eyes were already watering.   
“What's happened?”  
“Drive me to the hospital. Something is wrong with my baby.”

With that, Samantha had handed her keys to Michael and was out the door. Michael pulled his tshirt on properly and headed out after her, getting in and starting the car.   
Samantha dialled the hospital's number and attempted to get news on Skye, but they couldn't tell her anything until she was there, making the drive to the hospital more emotional.   
When they got there, Samantha was out of the car before it had come to a complete stop, and raced up to the ward. She was met by Dean, who was in about the same state as she was at that moment.   
To her left, through the glass window of the room, she saw Skye laying on the bed, a tube in sticking out from her mouth and heart monitors on her chest. 

“No..my baby..what happened to her?!” Samantha turned to look at Dean.   
“She took some pills.”  
“Pills?” Samantha frowned deeply. “What pills?”  
“She was playing in her room for half an hour and when I went to get her she wasn't awake.” Dean reached into his pocket and dropped a small clear zip lock bag into her hand. “There was one of these in her hand.” Dean glanced at Michael with a look of accusation.   
“Where did she get these?! What the hell Dean?!”  
“Don't blame this on me.” Dean gritted his teeth. “There was another in her backpack.” Dean placed the second one in Samantha's hand, this time there was a label on it. It was a dispensary label from Lyons Memorial and on it was Michael's name. Samantha's fist tightened around the bag and she looked up at Michael.   
“Tell me this isn't yours. Tell me my daughter didn't get hold of drugs that you bought into my house!”  
“Sammy, they're not mine. I don't know where they came from. You gotta believe me.”  
“Don't lie. Don't you dare lie.” Dean cut in, stepping between Samantha and Michael. “An ex drug addict spends time with my daughter then she's suddenly hospitalised because she got hold of pills with your name on it! You're fucking disgusting.”  
“It's not mine!” Michael frowned, looking at Samantha. “Sammy they're not mine.”  
“Leave.” Samantha muttered quietly. “Go home..your home.”  
“Sammy..”  
“She said go.” Dean stared Michael down, his teeth gritted and his arms crossed. Michael looked between them both, his eyes now watering. He shook his head and turned, leaving down the corridor, ignoring the judgmental looks from the nurses. 

Samantha watched as the doctors worked on her daughter, pumping her little stomach to remove as much of the drug as they can. Dean wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders and let her sob into his chest as his heart broke. He silently prayed that Skye would wake up, holding Samantha against him for his own comfort. 

“She's a fighter, Sambo. She'll be okay..”

Samantha didn't reply, she just sobbed and shook, watching the madness unfolding helplessly.


	15. Nightmare

Michael went home, to his house as instructed by Samantha, feeling down and unsure what was really happening. It wasn't his fault. The drugs weren't his. He hadn't touched any since that night he sought Samantha's help. Anyone in the hospital could've printed out the dispensary label, but he was unsure how they got in Skye's possession. As he pushed his front door open, he sighed, bending to pick up all the mail that had collected on the doormat from the past couple of days. Having spent that time at Samantha's house, the mail had piled up a little, but at the moment he was so caught up thinking about Skye's progress at the hospital, and the fact that Samantha was really, really mad at him to even bother opening any of it. That wasn't a priority, so he placed the pile onto the small kitchen table and sulked to his lounge. 

Before sitting on his couch, he grabbed his beaten up laptop, a pen and a note pad. Leaving the machine to fire up, Michael quickly scribbled a list of names onto the note pad, Dean's at the top, thinking that if anyone was guilty, it would be him. Michael frowned, not wanting to accuse Skye's own father for her hospitalisation, but he didn't have much of a choice, there weren't that many people who had been in contact with Skye. He looked his list over, scrubbing out the names of two nurses and Samantha's name. He cussed to himself for even putting Samantha's name on the list, but his mind and his hand weren't connected when he was writing it. 

“So that leaves two.” He muttered, looking at the paper in front of him. He reached for his laptop and immediately pulled up the hospital records he still had access too. His eyes widened with realisation when he read through the shift log. “You bastard.” 

x-x-x-x-x

Dean paced the corridor outside the room Skye was in. Samantha was inside with her, softly reading some childrens book she grabbed from the waiting room. He turned and looked through the window, his eyes casting over the young unconscious girl laying in the hospital bed, tubes sticking out of her body and the heart monitor beeping steadily, he sighed, tears brimming in his eyes, he'd lost count how many times he'd looked at her on the verge of crying in the last hour, but he knew it was a lot. His head hurt, a headache forming from stress, worry and guilt, and his fingers hurt where he'd chewed his nails down to nubs. He felt useless. 

x-x-x-x-x

Samantha sat in the chair next to the bed her daughter laid on. Although Skye wasn't awake, she still read to her, softly and calmly. Not only did she believe that Skye could hear her and it would let her know that her mother wasn't about to leave her, but it also calmed Samantha a little. It kept her mind off her whirling thoughts, thoughts that made her hate the very person she'd been helping for the past few months. She hated herself for letting Michael into Skye's life, guilt ate away at her, and at that moment nothing would change her mind, she firmly believed it was Michael's fault her daughter was in this state. 

A little while after Samantha had finished the book, Dean came into the room, a doctor following. Samantha stood, immediately her hand fell into Dean's hand and their fingers linked together, she leaned into his side, waiting for the doctor to talk. This was the most physical contact they'd had with each other for years, but it wasn't awkward, it was comforting to the both of them. They both felt the exact same, after all. 

“We've got her test results. There is no lasting damage, her stomach lining is fine and her bloods look good. She'll wake up when the anaesthetic dissipates.” The doctor began, looking up from his clipboard that had Skye's results on it, he smiled sadly. “Samantha I know this is hard, but do you know for sure that it was Michael who had the drugs that she got hold of?”  
Samantha sighed, her hand returning the soft squeeze that Dean gave her, comforting her. She nodded her head and frowned. 

“I believe it was Michael. Everything points to him, and it's partly my fault she's in this state.”  
“No. No, Sambo.. don't think like that. It's not your fault.” Dean supplied.   
“He's right, Samantha. You were helping Michael, you didn't know this would happen.”  
“Yeah, but still..” Samantha took a deep breath. “What's going to happen now?”  
“We've informed the police, and in turn social services have been contacted. I've told them they will have to wait until Skye had fully recovered before they take your statements. You don't have to talk to anyone yet, we just have to follow procedure.”  
“I know. Thank you.”  
“Yeah, thanks, doc. You saved our daughters life..”  
“I'm just doing my job.” The doctor smiled. “I'll leave you both for now. Samantha, you know how to call for us if you need anything. Try to get some rest, no one will judge you if you decide to go home until she wakes up.”  
“We're not leaving.” Samantha stood straight. “I'm not leaving until she can come home with me.”  
“That's fine. Get some rest. Both of you.”

Samantha took a seat back in the chair next to the bed when the doctor left. She sighed deeply, her hand reaching for Skye's. The warmth of her daughters hand seemed to comfort her, maybe it's because she knew warmth meant her body was working, and she'd wake up soon. Dean pulled a chair over to the other side of the bed, he positioned it in a way so that he could rest against the bed, his head a few inches away from Skye's, his eyes looking at his daughter, concern and worry was more that apparent. 

“She's gonna be okay, Dean.” Samantha spoke softly. “None of the doctors would lie about that.”  
“I know..I just..” Dean's eyes glassed over with a new set of tears. “The last time we were in a hospital together we lost our son. This is just bringing back awful, painful memories.”   
“I know.” Samantha sniffed, stopping herself from letting her own tears fall from her exhausted eyed. “But we're not losing our daughter. You hear me. She's a fighter like her dad.” Samantha locked her gaze with Dean's for a few moments, they both smiled sadly then looked at Skye. They both knew she'd be okay, but rest was hard to come by when worry was still taking over. 

x-x-x-x-x

Samantha and Dean had a rough night but by morning, Skye was awake, coherent and happily watching Spiderman cartoons on Dean's phone. She'd come too around 3am, coughing from the tube in her throat, which roused Samantha from her light sleep. After settling her down again, when the doctors removed the tube, Samantha climbed into bed with her, allowing Skye to snuggle against her for comfort as they both rested. Dean slid his arm behind them both and rested his hand on Samantha's hip, letting her know that she wasn't alone. 

When the nurse came around in the morning, she offered Skye some food and orange juice, which she happily accepted. It was like she hadn't been fighting for her life a mere 12 hours earlier. But that time still taunted Samantha and Dean. 

“You should eat something, Sambo.” Dean spoke, rubbing her back.  
“I will. Just not now. As much as I love this hospital, their food sucks.” She sighed.   
“I can make a quick stop at Burger King or something?”  
“No..no..” She stopped for a moment to think. “I'll go. I could do with some air anyway.” She stood from her chair, made sure she had her phone and looked at Dean. “Call me if she needs me. I'll be back asap.”  
“We'll be fine, Sambo.”  
“I know..but still.” She nodded. “Double bacon cheeseburger?”  
“You know it.” Dean smiled brightly, a little surprised that she remembered things about him.  
“Alright. I'll be back soon.” Samantha leaned down to kiss Skye's forehead. “I love you princess. You be good for the doctors, okay? Let them do the tests they need too. You'll be okay, daddy will be here.”  
“Okay mommy. Can I still watch Spiderman?”  
“Of course you can.” Samantha smiled fondly before turning to leave. 

As she walked down the corridors, Samantha checked her voicemail messages. Unsurprisingly there were several from Michael, which she didn't bother listening too, and with a sigh she deleted them. When she neared the exit of the hospital, Benny's voice calling her name stopped her in her tracks. She turned to see him jogging up to her. 

“Samantha, I heard about Skye, is she okay?” Benny questioned, his voice sounded more concerned that Samantha had ever thought it would.   
“She's fine.” Samantha replied flatly.   
“Thank god. I never meant for her to take them.” Benny's voice trailed off, then he gasped, looking at Samantha with horror.   
“What did you just say?” Samantha tilted her head, frowning deeply. Benny stayed quiet, shaking his head.   
“Nothing. I'm glad Skye is okay. I should get back to my patients.”  
“No you don't. Hell no.” Samantha's blood began to boil and before she could process any kind of rational thought, she was already pinning the Chief of Medicine against the wall, onlookers in the waiting room gasped at her actions. “What the hell did you do?!”  
“Samantha..I'm sorry. This wasn't supposed to happen.”  
“You did this?” Samantha grimaced, looking the man in the eyes. “You planted those drugs in her backpack when Dean dropped her off here. Didn't you?”  
“Samantha..”  
“DIDN'T YOU?” Samantha was now fuming with rage, she shook Benny and slammed his back into the wall.  
“She was just supposed to find it. Not take it. Michael doesn't deserve any kind of happiness and if Skye found the drugs and told you, that happiness would be shattered for him.”  
“You drugged my daughter. She almost died because of you!” 

Samantha let Benny go for a split second before growling, balling her fists and swinging a punch, hearing it land with a crunch in the centre of his face. That was the first of many. A red mist descended and rage took over as she laid into Benny, her knuckles splitting from the punches and becoming blood soaked to the point where she wasn't sure who's blood it was. Benny's nose crumpled inward under the weight of the of her fist and it took several staff members to pull her off of him, and stop her vicious attack. 

“He drugged my daughter!” Samantha screamed. “You'll pay for this!” she pushed off the other people and left the hospital, bursting into tears she slumped onto the bench and cried into her hands.   
“Samantha?” Justin's voice broke through her sobs. “What's wrong?”  
“Benny did it. He planted the drugs.” Samantha didn't waste any time telling him the news. “He tried to frame Michael. He almost killed my daughter!”  
“What? No..you can't be serious.”  
“He told me. He admitted it.” Before Samantha could say anything else, she started crying again. Justin sighed, helped her up from the bench and took her back into the hospital.  
“Let's get those hands cleaned up and get you back to Skye.” 

Samantha let Justin guide her into the first floor staffroom, knowing Benny wouldn't venture down that far, even if he wasn't being seen too for his wound. Justin sat her down on the couch and gather everything he needed to clean her knuckles and bandage them up. 

“Michael..” Samantha frowned. “I sent Michael away. I blamed him for this..”  
“Hey..he'll understand. Okay? Don't worry about Michael right now.”  
“I gotta see him. I have to apologise..”  
“Samantha, listen to me. You need to focus on Skye right now. I'll page Michael, hell I'll even drive him here if I have too, but you gotta stay here, for your daughter's sake.”

Samantha nodded, taking a deep breath to try and ease her anger. 

“Benny's gonna pay for this. I'm gonna make him pay.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have done research in order to write this work of fiction, but I, in no way, claim to be a medical professional, so please forgive any mistakes regarding drug names and/or medical procedures/medical terms. Peace.


End file.
